G Chaser 2: Absolution
by BDM
Summary: As King Ghidorah launches his assault on the Earth, Alan Tyler finds himself hunted by the law, and bears witness to the end of the world that he knows. A "companion piece" for CII's Mechagodzilla XIV: Past, Present, Future.
1. The Low Road

**The Low Road**

The black Landrover sped along the dark highway, heading south through the Utah countryside. It was late, after midnight, and there was not much other traffic on the road. The driver considered this a blessing, for he was in a hurry, and did not want anything to delay him. This night had been rough enough on him as it was, but he knew he had to keep going. Time waited for no man, after all.

In the Landrover were two people. The driver was Alan Tyler, a 38 year-old English photographer and professional G-chaser. His long brown hair was tied back, he wore a dark coat over a black T-shirt and blue jeans, with black boots. The most unusual things about Alan were his tendency to carry a Desert Eagle pistol and bullwhip, as he was now, and his eyes; golden, reptilian eyes with slits for pupils which most passed off as contact lenses unless they knew otherwise.

He also happened to be a blood relative of the most powerful and dangerous creature on the planet, Godzilla, but that was not something he told people generally.

The man in the passenger seat was Dr. Yuji Shinoda, a Japanese national and a self-proclaimed 'kaiju-ologist'. He had devoted much of his adult life to gathering information on Godzilla and similar monsters, but now often had to rely on G-chasers such as Alan to get the information and pictures he needed. He and Alan more often than not ended up as partners in their respective jobs.

Right now, he was sporting a bloodied, possibly broken nose, amongst other visible injuries, and he sat in the passenger seat, trying to prevent more blood from escaping. He looked a mess.

Not much more than an hour ago, the pair of them had encountered Mitsuo Katagiri, the man responsible for so much calamity in both their lives. A long-time rival of Shinoda, the one who was responsible for Alan's genetic ties to Godzilla, a madman who somehow had become the head of the Crisis Control Intelligence agency and the Japanese Minister of Defence.

At least he had been, for he was now dead. He had killed himself to escape facing justice for his crimes. As well as being wanted for hacking into a number of high-security networks (which he didn't do), he would be wanted for the manslaughter of two federal agents and kidnapping Shinoda (which he definitely did do). He had committed such atrocities in his mad pursuit for truth, and ironically he was closer to it than many other people on this earth probably ever would be.

Alan tried to keep his mind on the road, tried to ignore the words Katagiri had said to him in his madness:

"_Still denying what you are, Gojira?"_

That was not true, Alan kept telling himself. He was not Godzilla. He cared about Godzilla, but he was not Godzilla. He shook himself, trying to shake those voices out. His eyes narrowed as he did so.

"Don't think about him, Alan," Shinoda said, his voice sounding tired beyond measure. "That phase in our lives is over."

Alan sighed. He knew Shinoda would know what was wrong, for he didn't doubt Shinoda had also been thinking about Katagiri. The man had caused a lot of misery in Shinoda's life, had tried to use him to track down Alan and find the 'facts' he wanted. Shinoda had paid dearly for his lack of co-operation, as could be seen by his current condition.

"Just…" Shinoda said, "Let's just get to Kiryuu's base, so we can pick up Io and go home." Alan, however, felt he couldn't return home, not after all the trouble he had caused to the CCI, even though he had had more than a little help.

Ever since Kiryuu, the original Godzilla reborn as a giant machine, had entered his life, many things had happened to Alan, not many of them pleasant. He had had to pull off a 'shadowrun' into the CCI's base to discover the truth of the experiments performed on him back in 2000, he had been subjected to a number of strange, unpleasant visions, instigated either by Kiryuu or another source (not that it was the first time he had had such visions), and just now he had the misfortune of encountering Katagiri for the first time in several years.

Not that the relationship hadn't had its perks. It was because of Kiryuu that he had finally uncovered the truth behind the 'Monster Zero' cover-up, and spread the information to the world. He'd gotten a glimpse into Kiryuu's base and the sort of life he lead outside of fighting monsters. He had even had a chance to gloat at Kiryuu once, when Kiryuu's actions had attracted Katagiri's attention in the first place.

Kiryuu had even interfered in Shinoda's life a couple of times. Right now, thanks to Shinoda's old relationship with one Katsura Yugami, the chief scientist on the Mechagodzilla project, his daughter Io had been placed under Kiryuu's care, where she was safe from Katagiri. Now that Katagiri was out of their lives, they could go pick up Io and head for home, hopefully put all of this behind them.

At least that was what Shinoda wanted.

The location where Kiryuu was housed was a good distance out in the country, between Provo and Salt Lake City. Much of the journey had continued in silence. It seemed Alan and Shinoda had mutually, silently agreed not to discuss the recent events involving Katagiri and his suicide. Alan's ankle still felt sore from where Katagiri had shot him; the presence of Organiser G-1, the amino acid that gave Godzilla his extraordinary regenerative abilities, in Alan's bloodstream meant that the wound had healed rapidly, but it still felt slightly sore. Bullets were bound to do that.

Presently, the two sped past a remote office building, separated from any other places of civilisation for miles. Alan knew this place, but drove straight on past it. A few miles further on, Shinoda finally spoke up again.

"So," he said, still trying to prevent more nosebleeds, "when will we reach Kiryuu's base anyway? It feels like we've been driving forever."

Alan replied, slowly and deliberately, "We passed it five miles back."

Shinoda's eyes widened in shock.

"But… but…" Shinoda stammered, "What about Io?! What are you playing at, Alan?!"

Alan continued to stare straight ahead, his eyes locked on the road. "It's better she stay with Kiryuu's lot, where nothing can get at her. We've got things we need to do."

"Things to do?" Shinoda repeated, completely baffled. "What are you talking about?!"

"I'm talking about King Ghidorah," Alan said simply. "Monster Zero's real name," he added, figuring Shinoda wouldn't know what Alan was talking about.

King Ghidorah – the focus of the Monster Zero cover up years earlier – had recently become the bane of Alan's existence again, more than Kiryuu or even Katagiri. Alan had never forgotten how that monster had destroyed his home country, and now he knew the dragon was due to return. Worse still, he had an idea as to what new weapon King Ghidorah was going to use.

"He's coming back, you know," Alan said, his voice almost dead of emotion. "He's coming back to finish what he started in England. At some point, he'll arrive in Knoxville, Tennessee, and Kiryuu…"

Alan went silent at this point. He knew Kiryuu was somehow involved in King Ghidorah's plans, not to mention the codes to launch nuclear missiles. What he didn't understand was why King Ghidorah was so interested in that place in-particular. Kiryuu himself had said there was next to nothing there.

Alan knew all this, for in an effort to sever the mental link Alan and Godzilla shared, one of Kiryuu's associates, one Manda, had discovered a vision implanted in Alan's mind by King Ghidorah; a vision of Armageddon, and Knoxville was the staging ground.

Shinoda looked positively alarmed at the news. "But Alan," he said, "What do you plan to do? What do you think you _can_ do?!"

"I don't know, Shinoda," Alan said, "but I plan to find out what King Ghidorah's up to. There's something in Knoxville that he wants, I'm sure of it, and I want to find out what."

"You're insane, Alan…" Shinoda said, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's this kind of attitude that got you into trouble with Kiryuu, not to mention the CCI! Can't you just let it go, let others handle this?!"

Alan gave Shinoda such a savage look, made all the more frightening by his eyes, that Shinoda fell silent.

"No, I won't!" he said, equally savagely. "King Ghidorah destroyed my home, and I don't take that sort of thing lightly! I'm tired of him fucking up my life; I want to fuck up his. As for Kiryuu…" Alan narrowed his eyes, "I'll teach him not to leave me out of these matters."

Shinoda could only shake his head, now clearly frightened by this highly unpleasant side of Alan he was witnessing. Alan was obsessed with Kiryuu and King Ghidorah, and now God alone knew what this obsession of his was driving him to do.

"I can't do it alone though," Alan said, matter-of-factly. "You, Shinoda, must help me."

There was nothing but an uncomfortable silence, as Alan drove on towards the state border, heading in the direction of Tennessee.


	2. The Long Arms of the Law

**The Long Arms of the Law**

The call had come in at around 8:37am local time. It had come in from a panicked construction worker, one of a few who had decided to start work early at the site of the new Omak-Argon factory. His panicked voice, all fast-breathing and barely-audible speech, had made the police wonder if the man had ever seen a body before in his life.

It was also going to be Detective Carla Rigden's vacation time. However, it turned out the homicide department was short-staffed; some kind of flu bug going around that seemed to have hit almost everyone in the department. So when her department had got the call she had had to go along and fill in for those who were supposed to be there but were now probably coughing up their insides.

She arrived at the scene at 9:49am, tired and haggard-looking after her lie-in had been interrupted by the callout. She had attempted to tidy herself up, but her long brown hair was still slightly unkempt, and she failed to stifle a huge yawn as she walked onto the site. It didn't help that it was a rather hot day, which was always guaranteed to make her feel tired.

She eventually pushed her way past the construction workers, who were all either curious or irritable or both, wanting to do an honest day's work despite the inconvenience of a death on their site. Some were no doubt taking the opportunity to skive, but she really didn't care. She walked past the cement mixers, jackhammers and other construction equipment, passing a pair of officers who were interviewing the scared-looking worker who had discovered the body. Other uniformed officers were walking around the site, as well as forensics teams dressed in their white plastic coveralls, scraping around for any evidence they could find. Next to them, in her jeans and hastily thrown-on shirt, Carla looked positively scruffy.

Eventually, she found her way to the site of the body itself, with two forensics officers stooped over it with their cameras, flashing away a number of times at the corpse on the floor. There was a large hole running right through the body's torso, as if he had been run through with a spear. The face displayed Oriental features and a strange smirk, as if he was smirking at Death itself. The brown eyes, of course, were completely lifeless.

She kneeled over the body, not overly bothered by the mangled appearance. She had been around a lot of bodies in her time on the force, and this was no different. Aside from the nationality; she didn't think she'd ever seen an Asian body before. She looked up at the forensic officer near her, who she recognised as Daniel Smith, and figured it best to get the questions over with.

"Cause of death?" she asked, though she had the feeling she already knew the answer.

"Isn't it obvious?" Dan muttered. "We found him halfway down a steel pipe that was to be used as a support frame. This guy was a human shish kabob."

"Got an ID on him yet?" she asked, plainly, almost bored.

"So far, nothin'," Dan replied, equally bored. "No wallet, no papers, no credit cards."

Carla sighed. This was not what she wanted to hear. She wanted this wrapped up as fast as possible so she could enjoy the rest of her leave.

"Well, any guesses?" she asked, with traces of sarcasm.

Dan rolled his eyes, glaring at the pushy detective. "How the fuck should I know who he is? We won't know for definite until we get 'im back to the labs. You want more clues, talk to Salgor over there. He was first on the scene." He pointed at a dark-skinned officer interviewing the witness.

Carla sighed, picking herself up and walking over to Officer Salgor. "Can I talk to you for a second?" she asked, somewhat impatiently.

"Excuse me," Salgor said to the shaken construction worker, before turning round and gazing at Carla with dark brown eyes. "Detective Rigden?" he asked, as Carla flashed her ID card.

"Yeah," Carla said. "Got any clues as to who the stiff is? Anything from the witness?"

Salgor lead Carla away from the witness, speaking in a lower tone. "He's shaken, he can barely string two words together. He doesn't know who the guy is."

"So this guy's gonna need a lot of digging to find out who he is," Carla muttered. "Though the lack of possessions on him has to mean something."

It was then that another of the forensic team hailed them, waving at them. His uniform was covered in a lot of dust and what looked like loose mortar.

"Can you go check that?" Salgor asked, rather impatiently.

Carla nodded, heading over to the forensic officer. She gradually recognised him as Dr. Steven Legrass, a forensic officer of some 20-odd years, who over that time had become a good friend of Carla's family. He was an older man, with round glasses and greying hair. He shook some of the loose dust off him before looking at Carla, nodding when he saw her card.

"Good to see you, Detective," he said; on a job, he and Carla always addressed each other by their titles, to maintain the illusion of professionalism. "Just wanna show you all the evidence we've gathered so far."

Carla nodded, looking at the variety of bags filled with bullets and what looked like blood samples. There was also what looked like a Beretta pistol. That struck Carla as slightly odd; that certainly wasn't standard issue for law enforcement in these parts, they used Colt S.A.A.s.

"We checked the whole warehouse," the forensic man explained. "There was a lot of blood on the pole we found the body, obviously, but there was some on the gantry just above it. These bullets, meanwhile" - he pointed at one of the bags of bullets – "are 9mm, probably from this gun." He pointed at the Beretta as he spoke.

"This guy was skewered, not shot," Carla pointed out, "Couldn't this just be an accident?"

"Probably," the expert responded. "The question is what he was doing here on this site in the first place and why there are bullets scattered about. We'll be dusting the gun for prints and looking at all the blood samples we picked up from here."

"Alright," Carla said. "Call me if you get any news. You know my number."

"Personal or professional?" Legrass joked, in a low tone. All he got as a response was Carla raising her eyebrows, pretending to look affronted. "Hey, don't worry," the doctor said, smiling, "I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Thank you, Doctor," Carla said. "Right, I guess I've seen all I need to see for the time being. I want a couple of officers to stay behind though, see if they can find anything else."

"Oi!" they heard Dan shout from the body. "Is it safe to move 'im now? We're all done here."

Carla nodded, and Legrass also did so. Dan and some of his other associates loaded the body into a body bag, carefully placing it on a stretcher afterwards. Again, Carla yawned as she saw the body be carted off to a waiting police truck.

"Too early for you?" Legrass asked, with a wry smile.

"Yeah…" Carla replied, looking back at Legrass with barely-open eyes. "I was supposed to be on leave. Hope this is wrapped up quickly or I'll have to cancel my goddamn trip."

"Don't worry about it," Legrass said. "With any luck, this'll be an open-and-shut case." As he turned to leave, he turned back to Carla, smiling. "Say hi to your sister for me."

"Sure," Carla said. "I'll let my mom know as well. She wants you over for dinner again one day."

"What, again?" Legrass said, smiling. "You'd think she'd want to marry me."

Carla chuckled at the thought of her mother and Legrass together. Considering what good friends Legrass was with Carla's mother, and since her own father had left them some years ago, she began to think the idea wasn't so absurd after all.

***

They had been driving all night. It was now about midday, as the dry, dusty landscape continued to roll past them. Despite the fact that he was more tired than he had ever been in his life, Alan did not want to stop until he and Shinoda were safely out of Utah.

Beside him, in the passenger seat, Shinoda was holding his nose, trying to stop the bleeding again. Alan had tried to bandage him up as best he could, but he knew they had to get professionals to look at it, and fast. Once they were out of Utah, they'd look for a hospital or free clinic in the next state. That was what he had assured him, but it seemed Shinoda was in no fit state to be assured. He continued to moan softly as Alan sped down the roads. It was taking all of his restraint to not break the speed limit; they could not afford to attract any attention at this stage.

Shinoda glanced out of the window, watching the almost-unchanging landscape speed past. He felt he would be glad to get out of Utah; there had to be more exciting-looking places in America than this. He missed Japan, and was feeling horribly homesick. He was also worried about Io, despite her being safe with the Utah Foundation. He still had a hard time believing that Alan had not even bothered to drop him off there, before getting him involved in whatever hair-brained scheme he had in his head.

Besides all that, he was still feeling sore all over, particularly in the head, from his unpleasant encounter with Katagiri the night before. In that respect, he slightly envied Alan, for having Organiser G-1 in his blood to heal all those injuries as if they had never happened. Surely even Alan couldn't fail to see the few perks of sharing his DNA with Godzilla.

In the end, he decided one of them had to break the silence that had developed over the last several hours.

"So…" Shinoda said, inbetween his groans of pain. He paused for a moment then. What could he say next? He didn't want to mention that his nose what hurting again; after the third time, Alan had rather bluntly said "Just grin and sodding bear it". As far as Shinoda was concerned, Alan was losing it; he didn't want to get him any madder.

"So…" Alan said, rather impatiently, "So what?"

"Well…" Shinoda said, "What's he like?"

"Who?" Alan asked.

"Kiryuu," Shinoda said. "You've met him. What's he like?"

Shinoda knew all too well about Kiryuu's sentience. He'd heard the rumours from a friend of his, Shiro Miyasaka, and not so long ago Kiryuu himself had phoned him to confirm the rumours. Unlike Alan though, Shinoda had never met Kiryuu face-to-face, and he was curious as to Alan's experiences with his bio-mechanical relation.

Alan looked at Shinoda for a second. His expression seemed rather blank, but at least he didn't look irritated. He looked back at the road as he started speaking again.

"He's just as I expected," Alan said. "He's a complete arsehole. The guy's so full of shit, it's unbelievable. He might be Earth's best line of defence against King Ghidorah, but that doesn't mean I have to like him."

Shinoda just looked at Alan. He'd half-expected an answer like that, but his curiosity could not stop him from asking.

"Hey, here's something creepy," Alan said, in a low tone. "I think Kiryuu's got a girlfriend."

Shinoda's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "But…" he stammered. "But… aren't Kiryuu and Godzilla the last of their kind?"

"Exactly," Alan said. "There was this woman there – Maria something-or-other – and from what I saw they seemed pretty friendly with each other." Alan looked away, a sly smirk on his face. "I don't know which is creepier; that she's got the hots for an animal or a computer."

Shinoda just shook his head in disbelief. As much as Alan joked about this matter, he could not help but be intrigued. If Kiryuu was really capable of feeling emotion, he knew he had to find out for himself. In his mind, he started fantasising about the books and articles he could publish about Kiryuu's bloodline, about artificial intelligence, about the very nature of life itself. Then he calmed himself down, for Kiryuu had already threatened to make his and Alan's lives miserable if either of them blabbed about his true nature. Perhaps it was best he think about this in private.

Alan, meanwhile, knew he had not told Shinoda the whole story. The fact that Kiryuu was courting was not the creepiest thing he had learned there, far from it. He did not tell Shinoda about his other experiences there; he wanted to keep Shinoda as focused as possible on the task at hand, to not be distracted by other worries. He knew that he himself was having a hard enough time focusing, after everything he had been through.

"So how's Io?" Shinoda asked, after a moment of silence.

"She's doing fine," Alan said. "She misses you, but at least she's safe. They seem like a decent bunch at the Utah Foundation, even if they have to endure Kiryuu's presence." Alan sighed a little. "Mind you, Io seems quite taken with him."

Alan didn't add that that might be because Kiryuu reminded her of Alan himself. What she had said about them, about just how alike they were, had stuck with him, mostly because he didn't want to admit that she might be right.

"Did you see Katsura?" Shinoda asked, almost nervously. "How is she doing? I haven't seen her for years."

"Yeah, I met her," Alan said. "She asked after you. She's taking care of Io, like you wanted. I know Io's in good hands."

Again, Alan had missed out a lot of details about Shinoda's old college friend. For instance, he'd left out the fact that, like he was connected to Godzilla, she was connected to Kiryuu. She'd seemed a decent person though; not bad-looking either, aside from that socket in the back of her head, but she could cover that up easily.

"I need some music," Alan said a few minutes later. He liked his music, and didn't like going through a day without it. He reached over to the radio and switched it on, scrolling through the stations. After at least two radio stations giving evangelical broadcasts, he finally found some music. This happened to be the opening chords of 'Hell in a Bucket' by the Grateful Dead. It wasn't the best Alan had heard, but it would do.

At the same moment, Shinoda decided that the air in the car was too stuffy, for it was quite a hot day. He rolled open a window as Alan turned the volume up, making the words loud and clear. A short ways on they passed a highway patrol; the first car they had seen for several miles.

Alan started drumming the steering wheel with his fingers as the chorus began to kick in;

_Goin' to Hell in a bucket, baby… but at least I'll enjoy the ride._

_Yeah_, Alan thought bitterly. _If King Ghidorah gets his way, we'll all be goin' to Hell in a bucket, and none of us'll enjoy it._

As he thought this, he suddenly heard the sounds of sirens behind him, and the flashing lights of the police car he had passed earlier filled his mirror. Alan's mouth fell open; he was under the speed limit, and he had done nothing untoward. Had the police already found Katagiri's body and connected Alan to his death?

"Sir, pull over your vehicle," Alan heard the policeman's voice say over a megaphone.

"What do we do?" Shinoda said, looking panic-stricken.

"Nothing yet," Alan said, trying to remain calm. "Suppose we'd better see what he wants. Might be just a busted indicator."

Alan slowed down, and pulled over to the side of the road. It was quite deserted along here; very few other cars were either coming in or going out of the state. Alan bit his lip; they were not far from the state border.

He saw the police car stop behind him, and the police officer stepped out, walking towards the Landrover. Alan wound down the driver's-side window, trying to look more irritated than scared.

"What's the problem?" Alan said, speaking English, as the officer leaned in. He was a stern-looking fellow, his eyes hidden behind very reflective sunglasses. He was of quite a big build, not morbidly obese but on the right track. A name tag saying the name 'Barbrady', could be seen pinned to his uniform.

"Would you mind turnin' that off?" Officer Barbrady said, in a decidedly southern drawl. He pointed at the radio, which was only about halfway through Hell in a Bucket. Alan did mind, but thought it best not to get into an argument. He switched off the radio.

"Don' you know that that music's banned here in the Mormon State?" Officer Barbrady said, sounding almost surprised at Alan's apparent lack of knowledge of local laws. "No recordings or any other sign of the Devil's music can be broadcast in Utah."

Alan's eyes went wide, completely incredulous at what he considered to be such insanity. To his mind, there was no country more insane than America for breeding so many 'Charlie Churches', as Alan called them. He never thought he'd get directly involved with any though.

"I didn't…" Alan said, trying to refrain from yelling about the sheer absurdity of it all. "I'm sorry."

"Well, I'll let you off with a warning this time," the policeman said. "Just don't get caught playing it again." He jerked his head in Shinoda's direction, noticing Shinoda's injuries. "Is yer friend alright?"

"Yeah," Alan said. "I had to brake hard to avoid a coyote, and he smacked his head on the dashboard. We're trying to get to a hospital or something."

"Nearest one's about 20 miles away," Officer Barbrady said, "over the border into Colorado, just down the road." He pointed down the road, and then tipped his hat to Alan. "Good day to you, sir."

With that, he walked back to his car and turned around, driving back to wherever he had sprung from. Alan could just sit there, eyes wide, in utter disbelief.

"What was that all about?" Shinoda said, for he didn't understand English and didn't know what had happened.

It took a few moments for Alan to answer. He simply shook his head and said, "Bloody yanks."

As they finally left Utah, Alan told Shinoda what had happened. Even as they both laughed it off as being utterly absurd, they mutually agreed to not turn on the radio for the rest of the trip; who knew what kind of local laws they'd be violating otherwise.


	3. A Hunting We Will Go

**A Hunting We Will Go**

Carla had spent practically all day behind her desk. As she had suspected, she had officially being assigned to this case. She was poring over photographs, witness testimonies, everything that had been pulled from the crime scene earlier that day. She studied them for a good long time, with almost a blank mind.

She hated this part of the job; the thrill of catching criminals was always the best part of the job for her, it always had been. Everything else before that pretty much sucked, though. She was still awaiting several results, such as a fingerprint analysis on the gun they had found. Now, however, it was getting late, Carla was tired, and all she wanted to do was go home and sleep.

Now she was counting down the minutes until the call from forensics came through with some news. The lack of any identity on the body was an irritation, like a bad itch that she could not scratch. At least she knew that once that question was answered, then more answers would begin to come to light.

It took a little longer than she thought, as it was almost time for her to finish her shift, but the call came through. She waited a few seconds, letting the phone ring. She crossed her fingers as she picked it up, and held it to her ear.

"Rigden," she said.

"Carla," a familiar voice spoke, "it's Steven Legrass here."

"Oh, hey Steve," Carla said, sounding more relieved that this was the call she had been hoping and praying for. "Do you have results?"

"Well…" Dr. Legrass hesitated for a moment, as if unsure how to answer.

"Well, what?" Carla said, sounding slightly annoyed. "Do you have anything or not?"

"I do, I do," Legrass said wearily. "However… some of the results of the blood tests are… well… I think you had better see them yourself. Can you come down tonight and meet me?"

Carla sighed. This was not what she had wanted to hear. Still, she figured she may as well get this out of the way. She was not the sort of person to leave anything until the last minute.

"Alright, I'll be right there," she said.

"Thanks, Carla," Legrass said, a hint of relief in his voice. "I know it's late, but I'll keep the morgue open for you."

"Okay, thanks Steve," Carla said. "I'll see you shortly. Goodbye."

She hung up. She sighed again, pulling herself out of her chair and reaching for her coat. One thing was for sure, she was not coming back here at some god-forsaken hour to continue this investigation. Any new developments could wait until the next day.

She made especially sure to switch off everything and lock her office before she left. The last time she forgot to do that, Officer Crilly, snivelling little wretch of an officer that he was, had berated her for not following security measures, and that was something she was not keen to repeat.

***

Carla hated going to the morgue; despite having been here several times in her career, she gave it the same look of revulsion that she always did as she arrived at the dark, silent city morgue half an hour later. As she walked deeper inside, the lights seemed to become dimmer, and the drab décor certainly did not help matters. As she walked down the entrance corridor, Dr. Legrass walked up to her with a white-gloved hand outstretched.

"Carla," the doctor said kindly, "Thank you for coming."

"Yeah, sure, no problem," Carla said, almost distracted by the fact that his white apron had traces of blood sticking out like a sore thumb. "So what was it you wanted to tell me? Why not just say something over the phone?"

"I would have," Legrass said wearily, shaking his head slightly, "But this is something that you need to see to believe. Follow me. We should try to do this quickly; it is rather late, after all."

Carla nodded, following the doctor down into the main autopsy lab. The lab was spacious but poorly-lit. One wall was lined with the various cold lockers where they kept the bodies. Other walls were lined with desks, some of which had a variety of test tubes containing blood samples and other liquids. There was a very powerful scent of embalming fluid, a scent Carla recognised from other times she had spent here, but one that she felt she could never get used to.

In the centre of the lab, in the most brightly-lit area, was the autopsy table. A small bench stood next to it, upon which were several scalpels and other delicate-looking equipment. On the table itself, covered up to the chest with a white sheet, was the body that had been hauled from the site. Now it just lay there, stiff, motionless, and looking very pale in the light. Part of her was thankful that she could not see the gaping hole where the support pole had been, even though that part of the sheet was caked with blood.

"So have you been able to ID him?" Carla asked, as they approached the slab.

"Oh, yes indeed," Legrass said. "Fingerprint analysis, blood samples and my own enquiries reveal him to be one Mitsuo Katagiri, none other than the Japanese Minister of Defence. His fingerprints were also all over the Beretta we found."

In spite of the fact that her brain was becoming more benumbed from tiredness, she managed to widen her eyes at the news.

"So answer me this," she said. "What's a foreign minister doing in some factory in the Utah desert with a pole shoved through him?"

"Well," Legrass replied, "when I was trying to find out more about Mr. Katagiri I spoke to a contact in the FBI. He told me that Katagiri had been arrested for some highly illegal national security crimes; he couldn't tell me exactly what. When he was being transferred to New York for a UN tribunal, he escaped. He killed two FBI agents doing it and kidnapped a key witness; a Dr. Yuji Shinoda. Looks like he saved the UN the cost of a trial though."

"Alright," Carla said. "I think it's obvious what killed him. Anything else I need to know?"

"We found several, smaller traumas around the face and shoulder area, like he had been punched in several places," the doctor said. "I think somebody roughed him up before he fell."

Carla scratched her chin, gazing upon Katagiri's features. Now that Legrass had mentioned it, she could see signs of bruising on his pale face, bruises that now would never heal.

_So there was a fist-fight, as well as a gun fight_, she thought. _Either this man fell, or he was thrown… There was definitely someone else there when he died, that's for sure._

Legrass looked at Carla, smiling. "I know that look well enough, detective," he said. "I've seen you use it before when you're thinking."

Carla smiled at Legrass, pulling herself out of thoughts. "Well, I have a few ideas now. So, anything else? Who was with our friend Katagiri?"

Legrass looked away, giving a quick intake of breath, as if he dreaded what he was about to say next.

"That's where the weirdness starts," Legrass said. "Come over here."

He led Carla over to a computer terminal on one of the largest desks. This seemed to be a small office space he'd made for himself, as there small photos here and there. He pointed at the monitor, which was already switched on and displaying a chart.

"I took a look at the other blood samples we extracted from the site," he said, "and we have found samples from at least two people. One of them was type A+. Beyond that I don't have anything definite about the identity."

Carla nodded. _That might be Dr. Shinoda's, _she thought. _I'll have to look at my notes again, find his blood type._

"You said there were at least two people there," she said. "What about the other blood sample?"

Legrass looked at Carla, his eyes slightly wider.

"Nothing definite," Legrass said, "but take a look at this. I took a much closer look with this one, because I could not find a definite blood type. I even looked down on the molecular level…"

"Hold up, hold up," Carla said impatiently. "What are you trying to say?"

"Just take a look at this," Legrass said, slightly losing his patient demeanour. He brought up another screen, showing a picture of a human DNA chain, as it might look when viewed through a powerful microscope.

"This is a normal human DNA chain," he said. "You, me, anybody. But take a look at this…"

He clicked and brought up another screen, showing another picture of a DNA chain.

"Looks the same as the last to me," Carla said offhandedly, looking unimpressed.

"To the naked eye, yes," Legrass said. "However, look here."

He pointed to several spots on the DNA chain. As Carla began to look in, she actually began to see what Legrass was pointing at. There was something different about the chain. She also noticed a diagram that Legrass had drawn, showing what looked like an orb with three strands.

"The composition of this DNA chain is similar, but also vastly different. There are extra protein cells and amino acids… I don't know, maybe it's a glitch, but I'd swear there are elements more akin to reptilian DNA than human. This cell here…" Legrass pointed at the diagram. "I found these cells in the sample I examined. I have never seen any cell like this in the human body before… I don't understand it…"

Carla's face became more puzzled. "So, what are you saying?" she asked. "Are you trying to suggest he's some kind of mutant?"

"I…" Legrass said, looking as puzzled as Carla did. "I don't know. It's like his entire DNA has been re-written, spliced with something else…"

Carla just gave a loud snort, standing away from the monitor. "This is like something out of a bad sci-fi movie," she said bluntly.

"I told you it was weird," Legrass said grimly. "Whoever this man is, he's not like other humans. What have you got yourself caught up in?" he added, looking at Carla with great concern.

"A possible murder enquiry," Carla said, turning back to Legrass. "I can't afford to go on wild flights of fancy because of something that could easily be a computer glitch, doctor. Whatever this is, it's not important to finding out just what happened to Mr. Katagiri. He may have been a scumbag, but the truth must still be found out, and if he's been killed, I'll catch his killer."

Legrass just sighed, looking away from the headstrong detective.

"It…" he muttered. "It might have more bearing on this than you might think. What if it's not a computer glitch?"

"Well, whatever," Carla said. "I'm sure our mystery man has a name and a face, and I'm gonna find out what they are." With that, she nodded at the doctor. "Thanks for your help. Call again if you find anything else."

"Of course," Legrass said. "I'll send a sample of this man's blood to other contacts I have, some who may be able to shed further light on this."

"You do that," Carla said, not really interested. "I'll see you again, Steve. I've gotta go get some sleep…" She trailed off, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Good night, Carla," Legrass said. "And… be careful."

Carla nodded, leaving the morgue. Legrass, meanwhile, slipped a sample of the strange blood into an envelope. He had heard the Utah Foundation had experts in microbiology; maybe he could persuade them to have a look at it.

***

"You're late, Detective," Officer Terrence Crilly said to Carla as she walked through the door. Crilly was a very short, red-haired policeman with a freckly face and square glasses. He was regarded by virtually everyone in the department as the biggest sycophant any of them had ever seen. He had a lot of ambition, but was also an extremely 'by the book' officer, fixated with punctuality and following 'proper' procedure, and was always trying to get into the Chief's good books in one way or another. In short, he was the sort of person everyone in any office loves to hate.

Carla was too used to his sneering little comments to pay any attention to them, however. It was true that she was late – by a good half-hour, to be exact – but that was not something that concerned her. She had a good feeling about today; she felt they might finally have definitive results, and so she had not wished to put a blotch on this feeling by dragging herself in at some god-forsaken hour of the morning. She strode right past Crilly, ignoring his continuous objections (something along the lines of "the Chief hearing about her slacking"), and walked into her office.

She walked over to her desk, which currently was covered in papers, files, and assorted little trinkets that she called 'decoration'. She started to rip open some of the letters that had arrived for her. Nothing special, just a couple of requests for assistance on cases she had passed on to others so she could focus on this one.

As she was reading over the current casefiles and idling about with the selotape dispenser on her desk, she started to check her email. Instantly, she saw that she had one new message from the forensics department. Her heart skipped a beat when she opened it and saw what it was;

_Detective Rigden,_

_Further to your enquiry into the Katagiri case, we have results of fingerprint analysis from the overhead gantry at the site of the victim's death. The prints belong to both the deceased and one other person. Please find enclosed the FBI's file on the subject in question. We recommend sending out an APB on this man ASAP._

_Good luck in the hunt._

She clicked on the attachment. Instantly a file came up of one Alan Tyler, a British national. It seemed like this guy was a traveller, for he didn't seem to have a fixed abode in America; in fact, it looked like his permanent residence was in Japan.

What she was most interested in was the photograph supplied. She looked at the face of the man whose prints were in that warehouse. What struck her most about this man were his eyes. They were a golden colour, with slits for pupils, like a cat or a reptile. To Carla, he seemed to be one of those eccentrics who wore really odd things just to stand out from the crowd. Well, anyone who wore contact lenses like that had to have some screw loose in his brain.

So now she had a face, and a name. Idly, she wondered if this was the guy with the 'mystery blood' from last night; she then remembered that she had not heard further word about that. As far as she was concerned, however, that had to have been a computer glitch. Further analysis would probably tie this Mr. Tyler right in with it.

She gave a satisfied smile. It seemed she now had a substantial lead to follow on. She was sure that this Limey would give her some answers. She picked up her phone and speed-dialled the Chief.

"Yeah, Chief?" she said after a few minutes. "It's detective Rigden. Look, I'm sending you a file on a man who I believe is involved in the Katagiri case. His prints were found all over the gun we recovered from the crime scene." She continued to speak even as she forwarded a copy of the email and file to the Chief. "I request permission to broadcast an All Points Bulletin to officers in the Utah state."

After several minutes over the phone to her Chief, Carla was successful in sending out the APB. Within a short amount of time, the report had been filed to all possible police branches in the state of Utah, so now all of them would know what Alan looked like and to keep an eye out for him. At least that part of the job was over. The net was now in place, all she had to do was to wait for Alan to walk into it.

***

A full day passed, with no reports. Carla tried not to let her frustration show as she walked into her office the following morning. She was not the patient sort of person, and didn't like the idea that this man was still running loose. She didn't like loose ends. She walked over to her desk and sat down, shuffling through documents with a bit more ferocity than should be normal. This 'Alan Tyler' had to be a fairly slippery character, if not one police officer in the state had seen him so far.

A few minutes after she arrived at her office, however, her phone rang. She quickly picked it up and answered.

"Carla?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Annie?" she replied, recognising her sister's voice. "What's up?"

"A testimony has just come in from Officer John Barbrady," Annie said. Annie was a regular beat cop, a new arrival who wanted to follow the same path as her older sister. "He's just phoned in response to that APB you put out, to tell us he remembered pulling over a man fitting Tyler's description on one of the backroads leading into Colorado while out on highway patrol."

"Oh yeah?" Carla said, becoming more interested. "What was he pulled over for?"

"Playing inappropriate music over his radio," Annie replied. "John let him off with a warning and sent him on his way. This was about two days ago. He also said there was another man with him, a Japanese national. He said he looked rather rough."

At this, Carla glanced over at the files on the Katagiri case. She remembered what Legrass had said about a witness against Katagiri, and that his name was Shinoda. So he could well be with this Tyler character now, and she was sure there was some kind of foul play involved.

"Alright, thanks," Carla said. "I'll send Tyler's information out to other state police departments. Wherever this Tyler person is, we're bound to find out where he's going sooner or later. Thanks again for the info."

"Don't mention it," the officer said, before hanging up.

With that, Carla made another call, to the Chief, to get permission to send this information out to as many police departments as she could. Deep inside, however, she was furious that Tyler was now outside their jurisdiction and wanted to be out there after him.

***

Two further days passed. Carla had sent the information on Alan to several other state departments, including Colorado, Missouri and Tennessee. She wanted to try and cover as wide an area as possible, so that no matter where in the United States Tyler went, he would not go unnoticed.

One thing was for sure, he was not trying to leave the United States. There had been no news from airports or train stations. It seemed Alan was travelling entirely by road. They had checked up on Barbrady's report that Dr. Shinoda seemed to have been beaten up, and had checked hospitals in Colorado. Apparently, people matching their descriptions had been to a hospital in the state, and had checked in to have a broken nose seen to. However, they had left almost immediately, against any doctor's better judgement.

It also seemed that the two of them were travelling east. Reports had come in from Kansas and Missouri, from officers who had sighted them. Carla began to wonder what exactly they were doing. It couldn't just be a sightseeing tour. If Alan was involved with Katagiri, what was he going to do to Shinoda?

The most recent report had just reached her, and they had now crossed into Tennessee. She nodded as she thanked the officer who had given her the information, before sighing and putting the phone down. Such a major case had started on their doorstep; it didn't feel right to her that someone else should take all the credit for cracking it.

She stood up and marched out of her office. She strode across the large office space, where dozens of other officers were sat typing, walking with papers in their hands, or just milling around. She didn't speak to anybody, nor did anybody particularly try to talk to her. She strode straight towards the Chief's office, and knocked on the door. Hearing a gruff "come in" come from the other side, she opened and entered.

Inside the office was a veritable shrine of war memorabilia. Chief Rory Masters was an enthusiast of war history, particularly of World War II. On the desk and the various shelves were wartime photographs, newspaper cuttings from the time, models of old fighter planes and bombers, even replica guns and rifles from the period mounted on one wall. Carla also spotted an array of videos and DVDs of wartime footage, including some taken from early A-bomb tests.

Sat at the large desk itself was Chief Masters, a man in his early 60s but still with a wit as sharp as a razor. It was something of an office legend – not to mention a huge irony, given his interests – that he was born on August 6th, 1945… the day of the Hiroshima bomb. Rumour had it that he had been through hard times in the Vietnam War, further explaining his borderline obsession with conflict, but Masters hadn't deigned to confirm or deny that. He peered at Carla with grey eyes, with equally grey hair smartly combed back. He was old and cranky, but he was a highly experienced officer and a natural leader.

"Ah, Detective Rigden," he said as Carla approached. He knew everyone in the department by name, but he believed in discipline first and foremost. "What's the latest report on your assignment?"

Carla took a moment to remind herself that the Chief knew pretty much every single working affair in the department. She could now see a copy of the Katagiri case file on the desk, which he must have recently been thumbing through.

"Well, sir," Carla said, "I've just received a report that our suspect's crossed into Tennessee. He's been kept under constant surveillance. He never sits still though, so no-one can really make a move on him until he finally settles somewhere."

Masters nodded grimly. It was clear that this piece of news, possibly even Carla's mere presence, irritated him. Then again, a lot of things annoyed him. He was a professional, and didn't like any idea of a screw-up.

"I suppose we'd better leave it to the Tennessee boys, then," he said, gruffly. "It's not really our problem anymore."

Carla shook her head, rolling her eyes. She wasn't content to just sit on her laurels waiting for the Tennessee police to try and catch him. She wanted to be absolutely sure. She wanted to bring Tyler in herself.

"Sir," she said, trying to sound professional, "I request permission to have the suspect extradited back to Utah. I also request to oversee the arrest and transfer personally."

Masters looked at Carla as if she was mad. "You want to head out and pursue Tyler himself, even though he's had a four-day headstart?! Are you mad?!"

"With all due respect, sir," she said, trying to keep civil and not end up shouting at the Chief, "this is my investigation. I do believe I should be out there following Tyler myself. A crime was committed in this state; hence it should be us who decides what is to be done with him."

Masters made an irritated snarling sound, shaking his head and holding it in his hands. Carla just looked at him, refusing to let the man intimidate her.

"Look," Masters finally said, sounding irritated, "it's outside our jurisdiction. Once someone gets outside our borders, there's nothing we can do about it. We'll just have to-"

"Then pull some strings!" Carla interrupted. "Come on, you've been in this game long enough to know how it works. Cops in other states have at least heard of you, I'm sure you've got contacts in other state departments, surely something can be arranged through them?"

Masters stammered for a moment. That was true; he was something of a minor celebrity amongst police forces in the United States, for all of his long years of service to the Utah State. He had given lectures in other states, he had a small list of contacts, but this was well outside of standard procedure. He wasn't even sure if it was within the powers of the police charter, to pull off a stunt like this. Carla was such a hothead; she was putting both of their asses on the line.

"Just think, Chief," Carla said. "Morale's been a bit low around here. I spoke to Anderson a few days ago. He said he was considering quitting the force. Several other guys are feeling the same way. Don't you think that this'd be a good chance to show 'em what we can do, that Utah State still contains the best and the brightest?"

That was Masters' remaining soft spot. If there was one thing he didn't like, it was being second place to anything. He considered his department to be the best in the United States, and the idea that some other state could take the glory for cracking a high-profile case like this was unbearable. He sighed, looking back at Carla, who had an annoyingly satisfied look on her face. She knew she'd got him.

"Alright," he said, after a pause. "I'll see what I can do. No promises, mind. Don't get your hopes up, and if you get clearance it'll most likely be on Tennessee's terms. Don't expect any official support this end."

"Thanks, Chief," Carla said.

Masters just made an irritated snarling noise, giving a pointed look at Carla.

"Get outta here before I change my mind," he muttered.

"Yes, sir," Carla said, walking out of the room, out of this shrine to war. There was still some time to kill before it was the end of her shift. Figuring she wouldn't need to do much until the Chief's clearance came through; maybe she'd have enough time for a few sessions of basketball practice with Annie before the end of the day.

***

Hours later, after sunset, Carla was in her apartment in downtown Salt Lake. She was in the process of training, landing several hooks and jabs on a large punching bag hanging from her living room ceiling. Carla hated being inactive for any great stretch of time, she was always working out in one way or another.

The bag itself was a gift from an old boyfriend of hers. That guy had turned out to be complete scum, for he'd been having his wicked way with some blonde airhead at the same time that they were heavily involved. Rather than get rid of the bag, though, Carla now pretended it was her scummy ex every time she trained. As far as she was concerned, a bit of extra rage never hurt anyone, if used productively.

As she landed a roundhouse kick on the bag/ex, the phone in her apartment rang. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she marched over to her phone and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" she said, perhaps a little more forcibly than intended. She had just had a workout, after all, and was feeling pretty high from adrenaline.

"Detective Rigden?" Chief Masters' voice could be heard saying on the other end. "It's Chief Masters here."

"Oh, good evening, Chief," Carla said. "Have you had any luck with regards to that matter we discussed earlier today?"

She knew this was what Masters would want; straight to business, no small-talk. A gruff sound could be heard, before Masters spoke again;

"I hope you realise what I had to do to get this grant," he said. "You've got your clearance, but only for two weeks. After that, Tyler's free for any department to grab. I've also arranged for a contact in the Tennessee State department to keep you updated on Tyler's actions. He'll call you tomorrow, and each day after that. It's the most I could do, and I hope you appreciate it."

"I understand, sir," Carla said, "and I do appreciate it. Thanks, Chief."

"How are you planning on getting out to Tennessee?" Masters asked. "It may be a bit too late to book an airplane seat-"

"No, no planes," Carla said, rather forcibly. "I hate flying. I'll drive out there."

Masters just sighed. "Your call," he said, "but keep in mind you don't have any time for sightseeing. Tyler's got to be brought in within two weeks."

"Understood," Carla said. "I'll bring him here in a week and six days."

"Cut the jokes," Masters said, clearly unimpressed. "Don't screw this up. Remember, it's not just your ass on the line here; you're representing the whole department. Don't make us into a laughing stock amongst the Tennessee boys."

"I understand, sir," Carla said, trying to stop herself from shouting at the Chief, just to stop him from lecturing again. "I won't let you guys down, that I can guarantee. Thanks again, Chief."

"Good luck in the hunt, detective," Masters said, before hanging up.

Carla replaced the receiver, grinning. She'd done it. She'd got clearance. Now she felt the adrenaline rise again; the chase was well and truly on.

"Now I've got you, Mr. Tyler," she muttered.

With that, she started to head towards her bedroom. A shower first, then packing, then sleep. She'd start out on the trail tomorrow morning. She estimated it would take her at least three days to get to Tennessee. Hopefully she'd have plenty of time left over to bag this guy and drag him back to Utah.


	4. Shadows of a Doubt

**Shadows of a Doubt**

It had been a week since Katagiri's death. For the past three days Alan and Shinoda had been staying at the Days Inn in Oak Ridge, Tennessee. They considered it a good place to generally set up 'base camp', for Knoxville was only a 15 minute drive from there.

For those past three days, they had visited some of the surrounding area, and gathered all the information they could. Most of their time was spent touring, interviewing locals and learning some of the local history and places of interest. On their way here Alan had decided to buy a small dictaphone for conducting interviews, so he wouldn't have to rely on his memory in case he missed something important.

They had also picked up a lot of 'urban legends', including a lot of strange stories about the wildlife. It was these Alan was listening to now, towards the end of the tape. For reasons Alan would discover later, most of these stories revolved around Oak Ridge;

"_I can tell ya a few thing's about Oak Ridge. Ya know, birthplace of the A-Bomb? I hear some of 'em glow in the dark."_

_Click_. Alan fast-forwarded a little, hoping to pick out something useful amongst all of this;

"_I hear the deer around the Oak Ridge Wildlife Preserve near the Tennessee Technological Park have three eyes."_

_Click._

"_Ya ever seen an Oak Ridge possum? It got six legs and two heads."_

_Click._

"_Ya know ya can't drink the water in Oak Ridge, right? They got three-eyed fishes that swim in the Clinch River."_

Alan stopped the dictaphone, and placed it off to one side. It was getting rather late, and he was almost ready to call it a night. He looked across at Shinoda, sat on the other bed in the room, holding a bag of ice over his forehead. He'd had a bad headache all day, and was finding it hard to get off to sleep. The doctors in Colorado had patched him up as best they could, but an injury like that would still take weeks to recover fully.

The room was piled high with newspaper cuttings, printouts, annotated maps of the state and the local area, anything that Alan and Shinoda thought could prove useful in finding out what King Ghidorah was up to. Alan had written out pages of translations for Shinoda, of what he considered to be some of the most important articles and passages. The history of Oak Ridge itself had made for interesting reading, particularly for the G-Chaser.

After a moment, Alan picked up the dictaphone and wound it back to the beginning of the tape. He turned it on and listened again, for it was near the beginning where most of the important stuff was. All of this was recorded on the second day, for the first day had been used to book their room and rest after the long journey.

Much of the information they had gathered had come from the Oak Ridge American Museum of Science and Energy, as well as interviews with some of the locals; those that didn't only spout urban legends, anyway. Alan had been particularly interested in the history and present status of two sites. One of these was Y-12, the very place where the bomb that destroyed Hiroshima was built. They were the only site that continued to produce uranium, though this was as fuel for US nuclear submarines. Nowadays they were mostly known as the producer of plasma energy. Alan still found it somewhat ironic that plasma energy had been intended as a clean alternative to nuclear energy, and a means to provide power without attracting Godzilla. It had turned out Godzilla liked plasma energy even more than he liked nuclear energy.

Upon hearing of what Y-12 was most famous for, however, Shinoda's blood had run cold. Alan couldn't help but understand what must have been going through Shinoda's mind at that point. Perhaps he had had relatives or ancestors in Hiroshima or Nagasaki when the bombs hit. He didn't talk about his family very much, aside from Io.

The other site, more interesting in a less morbid way to Shinoda, was X-10, now the Oak Ridge National Laboratory. They had been told that it was the scientists there who helped Intel create Kiryuu's AI. Alan wondered if they'd helped out had they known what Kiryuu was going to turn into. Also, since they were funded by Lockheed Martin, the ORNL conducted extensive research into the bio-syntech. Shinoda had wanted to look further into this, but Alan doubted they'd be allowed to just march into the facility.

So they had decided to ask around at the ORNL's closest partner, the Oak Ridge Hospital. What they had received, however, were mostly advertisements and loose facts. In the end, they did not find out anything they did not already know. Shinoda idly wondered whether the presence of Organiser G-1 in the syntech sample he had studied was unique to Kiryuu alone, or whether it was part of every piece of syntech out there. If that was true, then he would have to start taking his 'Gojira is a part of us' mantra quite literally. For obvious reasons he hadn't asked about this possibility.

Alan, meanwhile, was pretty much sick of hearing about bio-syntech. Well, being tied up twice in it, not to mention having a piece of it be forced into your ear and skewered into your brain by Kiryuu was bound to have that effect on people. Rather rudely, one of the receptionists who they had questioned had suggested that Shinoda's nose could do with some syntech. This made Alan snicker though, at the thought of a bio-syntech nose.

On the third day, Shinoda had been particularly fascinated by the Civic Center's Friendship Bell. It had been built in Nagasaki, made out of bronze and built into a Japanese-style pagoda structure. On both sides of it were engraved the dates of the bombings of Pearl Harbor and Hiroshima, the dates which started and ended Japan's involvement in the Second World War. Lotus blossoms and atom symbols were engraved on the face as a border. Shinoda had been captivated by it. It seemed, to him, that this had made the trip worthwhile.

Alan, meanwhile, had been more bothered by the spelling of the word 'centre'. He knew Americans spelt certain words differently from the 'proper' English spelling, and it just happened to be one of his pet peeves when he saw something 'misspelled'. He was in two minds about getting a marker pen and writing out the 'correct' spelling, but decided that he'd rather not risk a night in the police station.

It was as they had been leaving the Civic Center, that Alan had spotted a man he recognised; a blond-haired man wearing a Hawaiian shirt that Alan would recognise anywhere. They had briefly made eye contact, but by the time Alan registered who it was and had turned around to talk to him, he was gone. Alan hadn't told Shinoda about this man, but he reasoned that after everything Alan had told Shinoda about Kiryuu, explaining that he also knew a dragon who masqueraded as a human would be a bit too much for the poor man to take.

Now it was nearly the fourth day. He placed the tape to one side, letting it run for a while as a local woman explained the history and current condition of site K-25.

"Here's where it all started," Alan said, to himself more than anyone.

"Hmm?" Shinoda said, looking over at him for the first time in the last couple of hours.

"Oak Ridge…" Alan said. "It's where everything started. If it hadn't been for the bombs developed here, Kiryuu and Gojira wouldn't exist, at least not like they do now. There'd be no need for G-Chasers then… or the Oxygen Destroyer."

Shinoda sighed. "Please," he said, "don't talk to me about weapons of mass destruction. When I think about all of the facilities here; the K-33, K-25, and especially Y-12… It's like this place was built for the sole purpose of building those God-forsaken things." He placed the bag of ice bag over his head, muttering to himself.

Alan shrugged. "It pretty much was, the way I understand it. I heard the town was built in a matter of days rather than years. I heard it was nicknamed the 'Secret City'."

He turned back towards the tape, where the woman they had interviewed was wrapping up with this comment;

"_Oak Ridge was built for war, is growing through peace, and living through science."_

With that, he turned the tape off. He leaned back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling fan, which spun slowly. The past few days had been very cold and wet; that was apparently fairly normal in Tennessee. It reminded Alan of England, if he was being honest with himself.

"The thing is," Alan said, "none of this answers the question we need an answer to; what does King Ghidorah want from this place? I can see why Gojira might come here; this place must be the equivalent of ten square meals to him. I can't see what King Ghidorah wants from here, though…"

Shinoda looked back over at Alan, sitting up some more. "You said in that vision you had that nuclear weapons were going off…"

"Yeah," Alan nodded. "I thought King Ghidorah wanted Kiryuu to access whatever launch codes they have, even though Kiryuu says he doesn't have them. I still think that's his plan, but what does Knoxville have to do with it? Something's here that he wants, I'm sure of it, but I've no fucking clue what."

Shinoda sighed. He did not know either. It was then he had an idea.

"You said there was a national park in Tennessee, correct?" he said. "We have yet to visit that place, it might be worth our while to do so."

"The Smoky Mountains?" Alan said. "Yeah, that might have something. We'll go there tomorrow. It should only take an hour to get there, depending on the traffic. We can spend all day there, see what we can find. Come to think of it, geological surveys are about the only things we _haven't_ checked."

Shinoda nodded, seemingly pleased that Alan was actually listening to his ideas.

"Hey," Alan suddenly said, "you think we'll have time to head to Lynchburg one of these days?"

"Lynchburg?" Shinoda said, looking puzzled. "What on Earth is there?"

"The Jack Daniels distillery," Alan replied, with a sly smirk. He was partial to some of that particular brand of whiskey on occasion.

Shinoda sighed. "Speaking of distilleries," he said, "the office is still a mess, after Katagiri raided it. If we make it through this, I'll have to clean it up, see what can be salvaged of the GPN-"

Suddenly, the lights began to flicker. The small clock on the nightstand started flashing erratically. A loud rumbling could be heard, and then the room started shaking, as if a sudden earthquake had struck. Shinoda bolted up, more awake than he had previously been. Some of the papers on the desk toppled onto the floor. Alan pulled out his mobile, noticing that it, like the clock, was flashing strangely, the keypad lighting randomly like some crazy disco.

Finally, the rumbling began to subside, and the flashing lights went out completely. The room was plunged into darkness. Glancing towards the window, Alan saw there wasn't any light coming from outside. Pressing the buttons on his phone, he did not see the screen light up as it normally would.

For a moment, everything was silent. Then Alan heard Shinoda's voice, quiet, clearly terrified.

"Alan?" he asked, speaking in a loud whisper. "Are you there? I can't see a thing."

"I can, though," Alan said. The eyes he had inherited from Kiryuu were granting him improved visual clarity in darkness. Alan could see as clearly as in daylight. He looked directly at Shinoda, though the scientist could not see him doing so.

"I'm still here," Alan reassured him. "What the hell's just happened? Not even my phone's working."

"Isn't it?" Shinoda was about to ask how Alan could still see in this darkness, but he was sidetracked by this new issue. "Then the problem cannot be a power cut, if it's shut down all electronics and not just those on a local grid. It sounds like the work of an EMP, but how could one have been caused here?"

Alan had heard the term 'EMP' before. As he understood it, an electro-magnetic pulse knocked out all electronic equipment in the blast radius. He wondered if this had happened elsewhere, but didn't know how to find out. He thought it best to sit tight until the power was back on.

Just then, he heard a sound; a voice of some kind, he was sure of it. It sounded like it had come from outside. Slowly, he rose from the bed, and felt about in the dark for the nightstand. Finding it, he felt his way to the handle of the small drawer and opened it, grabbing his Desert Eagle from inside. At this, Shinoda seemed to become alarmed.

"Alan?" he called out to the darkness. "Is that you? What's happening?"

"I'm gonna go check on something outside," Alan said. "Stay here and wait for me."

"Wait a minute!" Shinoda said. He was about to ask how Alan was supposed to see without a torch, but Alan had already prised open the window leading to the fire escape and was starting to leave through it.

As Alan had suspected, there was not a single light switched on outside. The car park was cloaked in darkness. No normal human could possibly see anything in this blackness. Alan held his gun steady, gazing around at the dark shapes of cars and bushes. Not a single light was on, not even any from passing cars. The place was also deserted.

Or was it? As he walked towards the edge of the car park, he heard the voice again. Now that Alan was outside, he could hear it much more clearly. It sounded like a child, crying…

Alan shook his head. Surely he couldn't be hearing what he thought he was hearing? Where was the crying coming from? Even as he moved on, the sound faded, and other voices could now be heard, of varying pitches. They all seemed to be saying different things. Some were crying, others muttering incoherently, and still others sounded like they were laughing; children laughing, as well as almost maniacal laughter coming from other sources.

Alan's eyes widened. The voices seemed to be coming from all around him. He spun around several times, his gun raised, trying to identify the source of the voices, but could see no-one. As he listened, he suddenly heard other snatches of speech, from two voices he recognised:

_I thought I had gotten all of you._

_You missed one._

Alan knew who those voices belonged to; King Ghidorah and Kiryuu. Suddenly, even as the other childish voices continued, Alan saw several figures forming in front of him. They seemed to be composed of some kind of black mist, a mist that was forming vaguely human shapes. There were other shapes he didn't recognise, but all seemed to have one thing in common.

They all had one pair of vivid, blood-red eyes, with slits for pupils. As they started to advance on him, Alan narrowed his own eyes, knowing where he had seen those eyes before. They were King Ghidorah's eyes, and anything with eyes like that could not be good.

Alan did not even shout a warning. He was not taking any chances. He fired two shots straight at the figures. However, the bullets passed straight through, and the strange laughter continued. He backed away from them, figuring he would make a run for it back to the hotel room.

However, as he turned, another figure was stood right behind him, and as he turned it swung its 'arm' out towards him. Alan actually yelped in surprise as he toppled over, landing hard on the solid concrete. His gun slipped out of his hand. He was now on his back, defenceless, looking straight upwards as the figure that had struck him down stood over him. The other figures formed a circle around him, looking down on him, the strange cackling continuing.

As Alan looked up at his attacker, he came to the sudden, horrifying realisation of what its silhouette represented. It was a black, misty form of Kiryuu, with those same red eyes. Suddenly, it raised its arm, the form extending to look like live snakes were jutting out of the end of it. Alan's eyes widened in horror.

"No!" he shouted, as the Kiryuu figure suddenly struck downwards, straight at him, wrapping the snake-like tentacles around his throat. Alan closed his eyes, struggling hard, and feeling like he was choking. His ears were full of the same noise, louder than ever; a noise like ringing bells, which sounded like cackling laughter.

Alan snarled, trying to yell. He thought he could hear someone calling his name, and through his eyelids something seemed brighter, like there was light shining on them.

"Alan!"

Alan's eyes snapped open, and he lurched upwards, preparing to strike his attacker... only his attacker was no longer there. Alan breathed hard, sweat pouring down his face as if he had run for several miles. There was no sign of any of the misty figures anywhere.

"Alan!"

Alan turned sharply, now seeing Shinoda staggering about a short ways off, looking desperately around for him. All of a sudden the lights in the car park snapped back into life, and Shinoda spotted Alan and ran over to him.

"Alan…" Shinoda said, his voice full of concern. "Are you okay?"

Alan slowly crawled over to where his gun was, picking it up and holstering it. It seemed like he didn't have the strength to stand up. He did not answer, just continued to breathe hard, seemingly not looking at anything in-particular.

"Alan…" Shinoda said, "Let's get out of here."

With that, Shinoda stood up, holding out his hand towards Alan. After a pause, Alan took it, and Shinoda pulled him up to his feet. Alan leaned on him, and he supported the seemingly-terrified G-Chaser back towards the hotel.

Alan could not make sense of what it was he had just seen. It was those terrible eyes, above all else, that he remembered, not to mention that he definitely recognised Kiryuu's silhouette amongst those figures. One thought kept running through his mind, further reinforced by that cackling laughter he had heard, a sound he had come to fear two years ago.

"He's coming…" he muttered faintly.

***

Greenwich Mean Time is several hours ahead of the standard time in Tennessee, so it was the early hours of the morning over in Newgate Asylum in Norfolk. Patients in the Asylum rarely got a good night's sleep, for some still felt fit to stay awake, as if they were too scared to fall asleep and dream.

One patient, in room 12B, was feeling that way now. Dr. Martin O'Brien had been on his best behaviour lately, so he was no longer bound in a strait jacket. However, he tossed and turned on the floor of his padded cell, eyes darting all around the room, terrified out of his mind as if something was about to jump out at him.

He had hoped the voices and the visions were gone. However, those hopes had been dashed. For they had returned to him, the nightmarish visions of death and destruction, of the many voices crying out in pain as their lives were stolen from them.

He could not help it. He began to weep.

"No more…" he stammered, quietly, a look of pure, unbridled pain on his features. "Please… Let it end…"

With that, he suddenly felt a tightening sensation around his neck. He was having trouble breathing, as if a pair of invisible hands had clamped around his neck and were strangling him. He thrashed around, trying to shake off his invisible attacker, but to no avail.

He knew he was dying… His vision was fading, and he could not draw breath any more. The last thing he would ever hear was that all-too-familiar, bell-like call, resembling cackling laughter, and a deep, grand voice speaking with pure malice.

_Lesley is waiting for you._

It would be several hours before one of the wardens, Webber, would go to Dr. O'Brien's cell to bring his breakfast, and discover the body. Autopsy reports would later reveal that Dr. O'Brien had choked to death by swallowing his own tongue during a particularly violent seizure. What had struck the coroner as strange, however, were Dr. O'Brien's eyes. Instead of their usual brown colour, they had become a deep, blood red, with slits for pupils.


	5. The Sky is Falling

**The Sky is Falling**

Memphis, Tennessee, land of the blues and homeland of Elvis Presley. Those were among the few things that Carla knew about the city. She had never been so far out of Utah in all of her life; as a matter of fact she had never left Utah at all. She was a cop, after all, devoted to her 'beat', and she never took many opportunities to travel. After crossing the state border, finally reaching Tennessee after nearly a week's worth of travelling, she decided to press straight on to Oak Ridge, where her target was still waiting. As far as she was concerned, there was no time for sightseeing.

Most of her time had been spent on the road; she had tried to avoid sleeping for longer than she felt was necessary. She knew that the key to a successful closure of any case was speed, accuracy and efficiency, qualities which she felt she had; otherwise she would not be a detective. Her phone had been ringing almost non-stop, with updates from the Oak Ridge boys keeping an eye on Alan Tyler. According to the reports, neither he nor Dr. Shinoda had made any effort to leave Oak Ridge, and seemed to be just sightseeing. They noted that they seemed particularly interested in the local history, particularly of the nuclear facilities. Carla wondered what exactly Tyler was up to, to be asking about such things. She'd have plenty of nice questions for him when she dragged him back to Utah.

As she passed Memphis, driving on I-40 towards Nashville, she heard the radio playing 'Jailhouse Rock', almost as if signalling that she was on the King's turf. Carla didn't pay much attention to music; living in the Mormon state somewhat limited her options. She had never seen what the fuss was about with Elvis; as far as she was concerned he was just an overrated boy-band reject. Pulling over to the hard shoulder to check her road map, she began planning her route. She estimated that if she kept going this way, and didn't make any other stops, she could reach Oak Ridge within the next few hours.

As she traced the route she would be taking with her finger, she heard a loud rumbling coming from somewhere overhead. Gradually, the noise became a loud screech, and when Carla looked up a bright flash suddenly filled her rear-view mirror. Eyes widening, she scrambled out of her car and looked back in the direction of Memphis. The city was only a few miles away, and now Carla could see an enormous ball of fire in the sky, raining fireballs and debris down below. A mere second later it collided with the ground, beyond the west bank of the Mississippi. The sudden shockwave from the impact could be felt at this point, and Carla was thrown off her feet. She cried out as she landed hard on the ground, the ground beneath her shaking violently. She could hear the sounds of cars crashing, horns going off, skidding and glass smashing. She lay flat, staring straight up at the dark sky, which was now a deep, blood red, as if the meteor had burned the very sky. She felt pretty sure she could feel the asphalt beneath her lifting up, as if thrown off by the very land.

As the tremors began to subside, she looked back toward Memphis. In a matter of seconds, the city had been reduced to rubble, doubtless from the shockwaves of the impact. Beyond it, she could see the meteor, still smoking in its crater, still glowing red. She wiped her brow, feeling that she was sweating, but she could not take her eyes off the horrifying sight before her. Already she could hear the sounds of sirens wailing, as the emergency services moved in to try and do their job in the midst of this chaos.

Just as she started to pick herself up again, another massive quake ripped through the area, and she was forced to stay low to the ground, sure that she would be thrown off her feet otherwise. Around her, she could hear people screaming, doubtless other drivers as shocked as she was.

At last, the violent quake subsided. Carefully, Carla picked herself up, moving slowly in case there were any more quakes. After seeing the devastation the meteorite has caused, she wondered if she should go back and help however she could. However, in the end, she decided to press on to Oak Ridge before the interstate was closed. She reasoned that the Tennessee boys had everything under control. Her job was to find Tyler and bring him back, and she was running out of time. She was just a stranger in this land, not its law.

Quickly, she climbed back into her car and set off along I-40 again, moving as quickly as she could, despite the lines of stopped traffic, the owners of the cars staring back at the impact zone.

***

In Oak Ridge, Alan and Shinoda also felt the effects of the tremor, only on a considerably larger scale. The quakes had started off small at first, but had grown and grown, until finally it was as if the very ground had lifted up beneath their feet. They pressed themselves flat to the floor of their room as the building shook on its very foundations.

"Fucking hell!" Alan shouted, as the large cabinet against the wall fell over and smashed, sending papers everywhere, almost crushing Alan. The ceiling fan came down dangerously close to Shinoda's head. The window smashed, and Alan was sure he could hear part of the building collapsing.

At last, after several tense minutes which felt like an eternity to Alan, the quakes subsided. Hardly daring to breath, he and Shinoda slowly picked themselves up off the floor, half-afraid the building would collapse on top of them. Shinoda in-particular looked as white as a sheet. By some miracle, the lights were still on.

"What was that?!" Shinoda exclaimed. "An earthquake?!"

"I wouldn't…" Alan stammered, "I didn't think Tennessee had earthquakes." He looked around at the state of the room, as debris and papers were strewn everywhere. It would take ages to re-organise all of the information they had gathered. He felt a breeze in the room, and turned to look out of the window, which was now devoid of glass. Maybe he was imagining it, but he thought he could pick up a smell of acrid burning in the air.

On a whim, Shinoda turned on the TV, which by a miracle had survived the earthquake. The picture was fuzzy, but he could make out what looked like a news broadcast.

"Alan," he said, "come and take a look at this." Alan turned back to Shinoda, and sat down to watch the newscast. The camera was showing the reporter stood in front of the Blue Ridge Mountains, only they were almost completely unrecognisable. Now they were jagged, twisting peaks, stretching higher than Alan had ever seen in his life. It seemed the news crew could go no further up the road. As the shocked newsreader spoke, Alan spoke aloud in Japanese, providing a translation as best he could:

"_Uh…the seismic activity have ceased for now,"_ the reporter began. _"They say that the area is very unstable. I'm here in Sevierville, Tennessee where once the Smoky Mountains looked nothing more than barely recognizable cardboard cutouts against a hazy blue sky; now they have become jagged, rocky monuments of cold stone, extending high into the atmosphere, and now are clear as day to be seen. They look like they're as tall as the Rockies, but sharper around the edges. Um…I've spoken to the geologists in the area and they're faces look as blank as anyone else's after something as baffling as this has happened. I couldn't even get a straight answer out of them. They don't know why. They think possibly the earthquake that originated from Memphis caused this, but then they say it's scientifically impossible. It's scientifically impossible, but it happened. Apparently the whole Appalachian chain has risen. We're getting reports from new stations around Ashville, North Carolina, that Mt. Mitchell hasn't quit rumbling, and there're reports of smoke coming from the mountain. Maybe a forest fire, but no one can say for sure. Clingman's Dome, despite its new elevation, seems fine. The Newfoundland Gap hopefully is intact, and we hope the tourists who come here every year are safe. There are reports of rescue operations going on now to locate anyone inside the park."_

Alan and Shinoda looked at each other. What they were seeing and hearing seemed to defy explanation. Alan tried to calm down enough to think, scratching his chin.

"Smoke from Mt. Mitchell?" Shinoda said. "Are there any volcanoes around here?"

"I don't think so," Alan said. "Any volcanoes around here are long dead. If there's smoke coming out of any mountains around here, there shouldn't be."

"What else did it say…" Shinoda said, his eyes narrowed, he too trying to think. "An earthquake in Memphis… Could that have started all of this?"

"Impossible," Alan said. "Memphis is a long way from here. If a quake had occurred there, the aftershock wouldn't have been so severe here. No…" Alan paused for a moment. "This is something else entirely."

He snarled, trying to think. Strange earthquakes, mountains rising out of the ground, a possible volcano being created, so many things that even he knew had to be impossible… Yet they were happening. He walked across the room, the glass crunching beneath his boots, and looked out of the window. As he looked outwards in the direction of Knoxville, where the sky seemed to be getting darker, only one possible cause occurred to him.

"It must be him…" Alan said, frowning. He knew this was the only possible explanation. It would also explain the hallucinations only a few hours ago.

"Him?" Shinoda said, looking towards Alan. "You don't mean… Not King Ghidorah?!"

Alan nodded grimly. "Who else could it be? Who else could pull off a stunt like this? It would also explain the quake in Memphis. When King Ghidorah arrived last time, he came in a meteorite that crashed outside Newcastle. He must have arrived near Memphis, or rather on top of it, and somehow he's causing all of this shit."

It was then that he hung his head slightly. "The only question," he continued, "is why. Why do this? Why raise those mountains? Why in Tennessee? Why at all?"

"I have to admit," Shinoda said, "I cannot fathom why either. This isn't like what you said happened last time, there must be some reason for him doing this."

Alan shook his head, looking back up towards the sky. "Maybe he's gained a sense of dramatics," Alan said, his tone so dead it was hard to tell if he was making a joke or not. Alan only shook his head again, at a loss as to explaining this turn of events.

He then pulled out his mobile, but as he looked at the screen his face fell.

"Shit…" he muttered.

"What is it now?" Shinoda asked.

"I can't get a signal on my mobile," Alan said, holding it up out of the window as it emitted a steady beeping noise. "I can't even call Kiryuu and tell him what's happened. He probably already knows, like, but still…"

Alan shook his head, sighing, putting the phone into his pocket. So they were completely cut off from the only people who might have had some idea of what was going on, and after everything else that had happened who knew what was going to happen next. He gazed out of the window towards the ever-darkening skyline. He did not think it was possible for the night to become any darker, but somehow nature seemed to be defying his expectations once again.

_King Ghidorah…_ the same thought repeated in Alan's mind many times. _What are you up to, you bastard?_

***

Time passed, and the sky seemed to be becoming darker every minute. Alan could not say how much time had passed since the earthquake; even looking at his watch didn't help much, since the sky was so dark it was hard to tell if it was day or night. The television had not been switched off ever since Shinoda had switched it on. They knew how important it was to keep up-to-date with the news, especially now if what Alan suspected was true. The latest reports on the volcanic activity that had suddenly spread across several states had just come in. Alan and Shinoda listened, expressions of complete disbelief on their faces:

"_Another volcano had erupted today,"_ began the news reporter. _"The mountain Clingman's Dome, the highest peak in the state of Tennessee, erupted spewing lava, fire bombs, and spreading an ash cloud nearly 300 square miles in diameter, covering Sevier County, Knox County, parts of Loudon County, and Anderson County in darkness. There are power outages spreading throughout the cities of Pigeon Forge, Knoxville, and Sevierville as ash rains down on the buildings, clogging power stations and generators. The water is polluted from the ash."_

"_Geologists have been keeping an eye on the affects the shockwave has done to America's true active volcanoes in the west,"_ the reporter continued on. _"So far, the shockwave has done little to cause any sort of tremor to the likes of Mount Saint Helens, Mount Rainer, or Mount Baker. Neither has this shockwave set off the Yellowstone Volcano, which was a very major concern for geologists. Some scientists have speculated that the right tremor from the New Madrid fault might set off Yellowstone, but so far the earthquakes from the New Madrid have done nothing to affect the famous national park. Still, scientists cannot answer as to why or how this earthquake managed to turn an area that has never been volcanically active, into a volcanically active mountain range. All scientists still state that this is impossible."_

_Well, doesn't look impossible now, does it?_ Alan thought wryly. He wasn't sure if the fact that certain volcanoes had not been set off was important, but made a mental note of it anyway. He didn't want to miss any detail, not if King Ghidorah was somehow involved; the slightest detail could mean everything.

"_Whether or not it is impossible,"_ said the reporter, _"the states of Tennessee, North Carolina, Virginia, and Kentucky now have volcanoes. Geologist state that the eruption from Clingman's Dome and Mount Mitchell are much smaller than what Mount Saint Helens has done, and because of their remote location, the Pyroclastic damage has been very minimum. So far, Mount Mitchell has quieted down since its eruption just two days ago, but Clingman's Dome has continued its eruption. The ash cloud seems to have found a crosswind against the trade winds probably caused by the mountains themselves and is keeping within the boundaries from the Smoky Mountain National Park to Knoxville. The Little Pigeon River has been a duct for the lava flow from the mountain range itself down to the valley, emptying out into the Tennessee River. Residents in this area have been advised to take shelter under a sturdy building, or evacuate the area. People who must take shelter, have taken shelter in the lower levels of buildings, car lots, schools, churches and court houses. Traffic is backed up on I-40 as residents are attempting to evacuate to higher grounds in Kingston, Crossville, and Harriman. Other residents are making their way down I-75 to Chattanooga and Atlanta. Both main fairways are extremely congested."_

Alan made mental notes of these. If he and Shinoda had to get into Knoxville later, it was obvious that those highways were out of bounds. Besides, there was likely to be blockades now. Nothing had been said about the backroads, so that seemed to be the safest bet.

"So many volcanoes…" Shinoda said, shaking his head. "So many just being created from areas with no history of volcanic activity, suddenly active… This can't be natural."

"Well done, Captain Obvious," Alan said, sarcastically, moving away from the TV and making another attempt to sort the information they had gathered. He sifted through the wreckage, looking for the dictaphone, which he had still not been able to find since the initial quake. Shinoda just looked uneasily at Alan. The chaser's attitude had been lousy ever since this started. Shinoda tried to understand; the frustration and not knowing what was happening was enough to drive the strongest man insane. However, he knew Alan's attitude wasn't helping matters one bit. He busied himself with reading through the translations that had been recovered and trying to sort them. Until they heard more news – either from the media or from Kiryuu, Alan didn't care which – they couldn't do much else.

Then the news report moved away from talk of volcanoes to the meteor outside Memphis. It looked like Alan had been correct in guessing that the tremors in that area came from a meteorite collision, and he was willing to bet money on what was inside it.

"Alan…" Shinoda said, his voice faint as he looked back at the screen. "Look… The meteorite…"

Alan stopped searching through the wreckage to join Shinoda back at the TV. The meteorite was glowing, and the two could now see visible cracks on its surface. The cracks expanded outwards from the centre, splitting the meteor neatly in two. It was all happening exactly as Alan thought it would.

"_The meteor, it appears to be... hatching…" _said the reporter.

"Here he comes…" Alan said, quietly. Both watched with bated breath.

A blinding flash filled the screen at that very moment, so bright the two had to shield their eyes. By the time the image cleared, where the meteor was, there now stood an immense golden dragon, a quadruped with huge bat-like wings, two tails and three heads on long necks. The central head had prominent horns and a cruel smile on its face. The heads released a roar that sounded like the ringing of a bronze bell. Shinoda sat, mouth agape, while Alan's eyes narrowed and a snarl escaped his throat. This was King Ghidorah, the subject of Alan's nightmares for two years.

"Dear God, help us…" Shinoda breathed, his eyes wide. This was the first time he had seen King Ghidorah outside of Alan's photos. He could not fathom how a creature like that could exist. He was terrified by the sight of the great dragon, but he could not take his eyes off the screen. Alan suddenly winced, holding his forehead in one hand. He'd suddenly heard a voice in his head:

_Kiryuu…_

He recognised the voice as belonging to King Ghidorah. He could not fathom why King Ghidorah had said that, or why to Alan in-particular. The chaser snarled; hearing voices in his head never lead to good news, and he wondered how long it would be before he went completely insane.

"Alan?" Shinoda said, noticing Alan's current condition now. "What is it?"

"I…" Alan muttered, "I don't know."

On the screen, King Ghidorah's central head gave a malevolent grin as the other two heads reared, and unleashed their terrible golden lightning on the town.

"_It's horrible!_" called the reporter. "_It's—it's Monster Zero! The one who attacked London! It's attacking Memphis!_"

Alan frowned, moving away from the TV. He'd seen and heard enough. As he stood up, he heard the dragon's voice again:

_Come and get me…_

Alan was sure that the dragon was heading to Knoxville. There had to be something here he wanted, some reason he created those mountains.

Shinoda stood up, breathless. "So…" he stammered, "Now what do we do? How much time do we have?"

Alan turned to look at Shinoda, his brain barely registering the voice of his friend. It seemed King Ghidorah's message had momentarily blotted out his own thoughts. He folded his arms, becoming business-like.

"Last time he came," Alan said, "he didn't head to London straightaway. He took his time, wiping out the rest of England first, piece-by-piece. We may get lucky and he'll try to do something similar in Tennessee. That'll buy us some time. If not, I'd guess we have about two hours tops before he gets here."

After a moment, Shinoda nodded. Time was not on their side, and they still had no real idea of what it was King Ghidorah was up to. All they knew was that he'd changed the geographical landscape and turned several areas, including much of Tennessee, into a smoking hell-hole. Alan walked back towards the window, noticing something falling from the sky outside, like snow. He reached a hand out of the window and let some of the stuff fall into his hand.

"What is it?" Shinoda asked. Alan sniffed at the stuff and rubbed it between his thumb and his forefinger.

"Ash," Alan said.

"Ash?" Shinoda repeated. "Another volcano?"

"I really hope not…" Alan said, turning to look back out of the window again. Things were going from bad to worse, as the sky above was at its darkest yet. As he looked at the leaden sky, he was sure he had seen something. As he strained his eyes to get a better look, he saw what looked like a blue snake, barely perceptible, winding its way through the sky. He was sure that if he did not share Kiryuu's gift of low-light vision he would not have seen it. He had the feeling he knew what it was.

"Hey!" he shouted, climbing out of the window onto the fire escape. He climbed down into the deserted, destroyed car park and pulled out his Desert Eagle, and without warning fired two rounds straight above him into the sky. "We're down here!" he shouted as he fired more rounds into thin air, "We're here! Hey! Down here!"

"Alan!" Shinoda shouted above the yelling and the gunshots as he ran towards him, "What the hell are you doing?! Who are you shouting to?!"

"Someone who might be able to tell us what the fuck's going on," Alan said, as he fired another shot. "I just hope the bastard can hear me…"


	6. Never Deal with a Dragon

**Never Deal with a Dragon**

Manda had sensed the strange energy ever since he came to the Smoky Mountains. He had to know for sure though. Since the mountain range's transformation, other energies had made themselves known, especially one particular energy he had not sensed since the fall of Atlantis. This worried him greatly, so he had made a call to someone he had not spoken to since the fall of Atlantis. He and Jo had stopped in Maryville, just 15 miles away from the Great Smoky Mountains, to make the call. He had ways of getting phone numbers to people that he needed desperately to talk to, thanks to his skills as a detective. The person he was trying to contact was more than thrilled to meet him. Now, all he had to do was get to Oak Ridge, though he could not for the life of him figure out why they had to meet in the Atomic City.

Now he and Jo were flying over the lit city of Oak Ridge. He was careful not to fly directly over the plants that created the bomb. He knew that would be the worse if he did, for they had radar everywhere. He noticed that much of the city itself had survived the earthquake, as a lot of the buildings were built with the best concrete. Still, he found a few downed buildings, but the city itself seems to be standing. There were sirens, just like there should be when a disaster like this happened, but the areas around Wal-Mart, Kroger, Books-A-Million, and the Oak Ridge Mall were not down. People were shopping there, stocking up on food. Something about the whole scene felt wrong to him somehow.

Already, flakes of ash began to fall. Manda hoped it was from some fire and not the volcanic ash from one of the new volcanoes. As the Eastern Dragon flew over the Valley of Oak Ridge, which was more or less a ghetto, he saw where a lot of the damage was. These houses here in the Valley were not as sturdy as the ones up on the Hills of Oak Ridge. The Valley and the Hills were separated by of course shopping centres and restaurants at the centre of Oak Ridge.

That was when he heard a gun shot.

"What the hell?" Jo asked as Manda's body jerked, startled by the sound. "What was that?"

"I don't know," said Manda. "It came from that downed hotel over there."

He flew down, circling the hotel until he saw a familiar face. He recognised Alan immediately; those cat-like eyes of his were unmistakeable, and he looked no worse for wear. Beside him was a Japanese man, who suddenly looked like he was about to have a conniption, or a heart attack, or possibly both. His eyes were bulging out of their sockets when he saw the blue Eastern Dragon circle the building with his lengthy, sinuous body.

Manda glanced back, flipping the green-tinted sunglasses down onto his snout. He could see just fine in the dark, even with the added shades. He twisted the gold stud in his ear frill and then lowered his enormous head down to the two humans that were standing there. The Japanese man, he sensed, could not understand English. And just by reading him, he knew that this was Yuji Shinoda, Io's father. He sensed that Jo had pulled out her pistol as well.

"Put away, the gun, Jo," Manda sighed.

"Who the hell are they, Tim?" Jo asked. "And why does that guy have a gun?"

"It's okay," said Manda. He turned back to the human with the gold eyes, and he suddenly shifted into 'cop mode'. Not only that, he projected into Shinoda's mind just so that he could understand everything the Dragon was saying to Alan. "Alan Tyler, I hope you have a permit for that firearm. You're lucky I'm out of my jurisdiction or else I'd be reading your rights right now while you and your friend here are handcuffed to my squad car. I could have you reported to the ORPD for firing that weapon. You'll be lucky if someone near by doesn't call up the police on your ass right now."

Alan simply shrugged. As a matter of fact, he did have a permit, but was not overly inclined to show Manda right now. G-Chasing was a more dangerous game than even the very real possibility of getting killed during Godzilla's rampages. There were very unscrupulous G-Chasers out there who went to any means to get the exclusives. Alan had encountered several, but word about his proficiency with gun and whip had got around, so he'd been left alone aside from a couple of rather nasty incidents a few years back. In any case, he holstered the gun and walked up to Manda, craning his neck slightly to look straight into the dragon's eyes.

"Like any of that really counts for shit now," Alan said calmly, looking all around him. "You mark my words; people out there will be doing King Ghidorah's work for him right now, I don't think a few stray bullets in the sky will mean much in the long-run."

Alan looked behind him at Shinoda, who seemed to be half-walking, half-falling as he moved towards Manda. His eyes were bulging out of his head as he looked at the very large dragon.

"He – he - he's a…" Alan could hear him stammering. "He's a – a –a he's a – he's – he's…"

"Shinoda, relax," Alan said. The way he was smiling was an uncanny impression of Kiryuu. It was the same smile the mech had used when Alan had first met him. He helped Shinoda stagger the rest of the way towards Manda. The scientist couldn't take his eyes off the dragon.

"I guess introductions are in order now," he said. He pointed at Shinoda first. "Yuji Shinoda," he said, "meet Manda, guardian of Atlantis." Shinoda didn't speak. He just continued to goggle at Manda while Alan turned his attention to Jo. The first thing Alan noticed was how attractive he found Jo, and he wondered if she was spoken for.

"And…" he continued, but stopped, his face becoming politely puzzled. "Er … sorry, what's your name, love?"

"Love?" Jo asked, sliding down to the edge of Manda's snout. "Excuse me? Who the hell is this flake?"

"Now, Jo," Manda began. "Calm down."

Alan rolled his eyes. _Bloody Yanks… _he thought. _They just don't get English slang at all. Maybe I should speak in a full North Yorkshire accent and annoy her even more._

"_I wouldn't if I were you,"_ Manda's amused-sounding voice said in his head, causing the chaser to jump; he had forgotten that Manda was a psychic. _"You don't want to make this one mad; take my word for it."_

"I am Detective Josefina Cortez MBPD," she said, flashing her badge at him. "His partner. As he stated, we are a little out of our jurisdiction, but Timothy here had to come see everything."

Alan looked up at Manda, a slight smirk on his face. This was the first time he'd heard the name Manda used when he was a human. Of all the names he could think of for Manda, 'Timothy' was somewhere near the bottom of the list.

"And you begged me to come," Manda sighed as he swiftly shape-shifted into his human form. He also brought out his badge and handed it to Shinoda. "There, is that better?"

"You're—you're—a—police officer?" Shinoda asked, still even more surprised by the fact the dragon that stood before him had turned into a human with dirty blonde hair, a white T-shirt, and ragged jeans. "A—Alan, h—he's a police—officer. A—dragon—he's—a police officer."

Alan put a hand over his mouth, stifling a burst of laughter that had threatened to escape. He had not seen Shinoda so shocked for such a long time, and he was enjoying every minute of this little encounter.

"What?" Manda asked. "Dragons can't be police officers? We can't serve and protect the people? This is a free country, you know. I'm sure in Japan, they don't allow dragons to be police officers, but you're in American my friend…and…"

"Tim!" Jo called.

"Right," Manda sighed. "The Chief doesn't know I'm a dragon. My name is Manda; well, actually it's Leviathan, East Guardian of Atlantis. But I go under the alias of Detective Timothy Marx, Miami Beach Police. And she's my partner." He leaned over to Shinoda. "I'm the good cop, she's the bad cop."

"I heard that," said Jo, smacking the dragon-in-human form on the shoulder.

"Ow," Manda grunted. "Anyways, we're here. I made a promise to Kiryuu when he was in Florida. I told him that if he'd handle Kraken for me—er, that's Titanosaurus to you—I would help him defeat King Ghidorah. Actually, it's a bit more than that. You see Kraken—Titanosaurus—he was my old friend and the West Guardian of Atlantis. But something turned him insane. Drove him completely bonkers. He was never the same after that. Then, I found out who did it... and he came."

"Let me guess," Alan chimed in. "King Ghidorah, right?"

"That's right," Manda replied. "He was drawn to Atlantis because of what we used to power our…" he glanced down for a moment. "Our vastly superior technology. We were thousands of years beyond our time, even by today's standards. It was because we used magic to build the technology. But we needed a power source, so we used life force from the planet and stored it in crystalline form and created a tower to spread the energy around to our cities. But King Ghidorah did not cause the fall of Atlantis, though he did weaken us. It was one of our own weapons that caused Atlantis to sink because of fear of King Ghidorah's return. And the Tower of Atlantis sunk with it. I've been guarding it since to make sure the same thing doesn't happen again. But when I came here I began to sense energies that were similar to the one the Tower of Atlantis emitted, and it's all coming from this city. I think there's a lot more to this city than producing plasma for Kiryuu. I just don't know what."

Alan took a moment to take that burst of information in. This was getting stranger by the minute. It gradually dawned on him that if Manda had sensed energies similar to that 'tower' in this area, then it would go some way to explaining King Ghidorah's interest in this area.

"So whatever energy the tower produced…" Alan said, slowly enough to ensure he understood what it was he was saying, "There must be something similar here in this town. If this stuff was as powerful as you say, I can see why King Ghidorah would want it. Any ideas what that 'something' might be?"

"The only thing that could produce energy similar to the Tower of Atlantis is another tower like it," Manda replied. "The energy it produces is called Technomana. There was one other tower, the Tower of Babel, but it fell when remnants of King Ghidorah came and... Well, they did the same that King Ghidorah did. Those remnants were called the Scourge and they came when Babel was built. And that's how Babel fell…"

Alan looked around him. He had heard of the Tower of Babel, though he could not remember the specifics of the story. The ash was creating a fine layer on the ground, similar to snow.

"So then- damnit!" As Alan had opened his mouth to speak, a flake of ash had fallen into his mouth, causing him to cough and spit it out.

"Well, I'm willing to bet money on who's turned this state into Hell on Earth," he gagged, turning to look at Manda again. "I saw those mountains on the news. Why raise them? What's so special about them?"

"They're called Mountains of the Phoenix," said Manda. "If you know the geology of the area, these mountains are around 680 million years old. These mountains were one of the first to be formed. When the continents were all squished together to form the super continent Pangaea, these mountains rose higher than the Sierra Nevada range. They were also volcanic; the evidence is in the soil. Of course, a lot of it had to do with the fact that Yellowstone erupted a few times during their making and dumped ash all over them, but they produced their own set of volcanoes. They didn't gain their full height until about 230 million years ago. Because of their age they are a geological timeline, and well—also because of their age—they possess a memory of the lives that have lived and died on this planet.

"They are called the Mountains of the Phoenix for one reason; these mountains rose tall once, but then they fell. They fell a lot, being flattened out into plains, or sunken under an inland sea. But they still rose. You'd think that at least 300 million years of erosion would completely make these mountains non existent, but it didn't. They're still here. Where other mountains have completely gone away, these mountains still stand. You're standing on ground older than Kiryuu's bones.

"King Ghidorah has used these mountains before. Because they held so much memory of the Earth's past, and its life force, they were an excellent place for him to use as a conduit to suck the life away. Raising them as high as they are now, he's basically uprooted the sedimentary rock of ages long gone. As for the volcanoes, he's making them react as they once did when the movements of the plates were raising them up."

Jo cleared her throat.

"Oh, and Jo thinks he's being melodramatic," Manda chuckled.

"No, I called him a Prima Donna," said Jo.

"That too," said Manda. "Which fits in well with his character, really. King Ghidorah is one huge show-off."

"I found that out in London," Alan sighed. "He likes to play with his prey." Manda could sense that Alan was thinking of what had happened to him all those years ago, and decided against pursuing the subject. Jo had been about to question Alan, but Manda held up a warning hand to silence her.

"Anyway," he said, "coupled with what's going on here, this whole area is one huge buffet table with a dessert bar. One thing that is about this region - which would probably be of a lot of interest to Dr. Shinoda, since he is a biologist - is that these mountains are one of the most ecologically diverse places in the world, and is the only place in the Eastern United States where old growth forests from the Ice Age still exists. Again, it's a perfect place for King Ghidorah to feast upon."

Alan was about to continue the discussion, but Manda glanced down when he heard his cell phone ring.

"Excuse me," he said, picking up the phone and answering it. "Hello?"

_"Hola, mi amigo,"_ began a familiar voice on the phone. _"It's time for us to have that talk…"_

"Malcho…" Manda began.

_"Meet me at Books-A-Million, Manda,"_ said Malcho. _"There is something you need to see."_

"Okay," he said. "I'll see you there." He hung up. "I'm sorry, Alan. I've gotta run. I'm meeting an old friend for coffee. It's... been a while since I've seen him. He's a bit of a hobbyist and loves to talk about what he's into right now. Come on, Jo."

Manda swiftly reverted back into his dragon form and lowered his head down to his partner. Jo grabbed a hold of a lock of Manda's teal mane and hoisted herself back upon his head.

"Fine time your friend's picked for a coffee morning," Alan said wryly.

"He..." Manda paused, trying to think of a polite way of putting what he wanted to say. "He has a lot of self-confidence." He raised himself to his full height, replaced the sunglasses upon the brow of his head and winked a purple eye at Alan and Shinoda.

"Oh, Shinoda," he began. "I've seen your daughter Io. Don't worry about her. Kiryuu and Katsura are taking good care of her. I've never seen the fatherly side of Kiryuu before. Despite the fact that he can be rather scary at times, she's not afraid of him. He can be a very caring person when he wants to be. She's in good hands."

Then, the Eastern Dragon rose up into the air and flew off, his lengthy body flipping about like a ribbon in the wind.

"Well, goodbye then," Alan muttered, as he saw Manda fly away. Well, at least he'd actually got some information out of that meeting; if he had spoken to Kiryuu instead, it would have been quite another matter. Manda's words had given him a lot to think about, and he felt he better understood why King Ghidorah was interested in this area specifically.

He looked over at Shinoda, who still looked somewhat shell-shocked. Clearly he had not been expecting this at all. He slowly turned to look back at Alan, his eyes still wide.

"You… you never said you knew a real, live dragon…" he stammered.

"Well, you didn't tell me a lot of things about Kiryuu before I met him," Alan smirked. "Now we're even."

Shinoda just shook his head. He began to dread what else Alan had written into his address book. At least he had assurance that Io was fine. That was the only thought keeping him going right now.

"We'd better get back inside," Alan said. "We'd better get ready. King Ghidorah will be here soon."

After a moment, Shinoda finally nodded, and followed Alan back to their hotel room. As they did so, Alan chuckled slightly as he thought about what Jo had called King Ghidorah; the term 'Prima Donna' suited that lizard perfectly.

***

It would amaze Alan, long after these events were over, at just how 'normal' life in Oak Ridge seemed to be during this time. Aside from the ash and the occasional sound of sirens, there was little sign that this town was to experience imminent Armageddon. Alan found it slightly creepy. With King Ghidorah coming ever-closer, he started getting suspicious as to why this town had not evacuated yet.

Currently, however, he was poring over a road map with Shinoda, trying to find an alternate route to Knoxville. With the highway likely to be blocked, they had to find a more discreet route. At last, Alan nodded, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Ah, here we go," he said. "This road here leads into the district of Karns. If we can get there, there's a backroad that leads from there straight to the Inner City in Knoxville." He traced the route on the map with his finger.

"How long will it take?" Shinoda asked.

"Only about 15 minutes, if we get lucky," Alan said reassuredly.

"Then what?" Shinoda asked. "What happens once we get into the city?"

Alan paused for a moment. "Do what any other G-Chaser would do," he eventually said, with a slight grin. "We grab the exclusive pictures."

"So we're just watching all of this?" Shinoda said. "You're not going to try to interfere, are you?"

"Shinoda," Alan said, his eyes narrowed slightly, "as much as I would love to, what can a human do against him? What good would trying to step in do? We'll have to leave this in Kiryuu's and Godzilla's hands, or rather claws."

Shinoda nodded, though he still looked slightly sceptical. If he knew Alan right, he'd try to take a shot at King Ghidorah himself, no matter how futile it may be. He just picked up their surviving possessions and began to pack them, Alan doing the same.

Later, they both climbed out of the window and headed towards their still-parked car, their suitcases between them. Alan had his camera out of its box, ready to be used as soon as it was needed. He placed his suitcases on the ground, which was now coated in a fine layer of ash, and waited for Shinoda to arrive.

"Put everything in the boot and make sure we're ready to go," Alan said, handing the keys to Shinoda. "I'm gonna go get us checked out and pay up our bill."

Shinoda nodded, and began to pack the suitcases into the car's trunk as Alan headed to the front office. Once the suitcases were away, he decided to try and clean the windscreen, which currently was coated in ash like pretty much everything else. All that the window wipers did was streak the ash across the windscreen, and it took a lot of spurts with the washers to finally render the windscreen serviceable. He began to think over the recent meeting with Manda, and all that had been discussed. So much had been said about Atlantis, the Tower of Babel, and even magic itself, all of which Shinoda had passed off as myth or fairytale a long time ago. This was in complete defiance of rational – or at least known – science, and he wondered what was coming next. As he sat waiting for Alan to return, he hummed a nursery rhyme he used to sing to Io when she was still very small. At least she was safe in Utah.

Presently, the silence was shattered by a sound like the rushing of very large wings, and he swore he spotted something out of the corner of his eye; a very large something.

"Oh no…" Shinoda said, fearing the worst. He scrambled out of the car just as Alan came running up to him. Both froze in their tracks and stared in awe at the sky. For visible in the sky above them were not one, but two dragons, some distance down the road. One of them they recognised as Manda, the other, much smaller one was serpentine and seemed to be covered in green feathers, with large multi-coloured wings and a multi-coloured mane and tail to match. Once again, Shinoda's mouth fell open, as if he was about to eat a hundred pizzas in one go. Even Alan was shocked at the discovery that there was more than one dragon residing on Earth. Was this the 'friend' Manda said he was meeting?

"Alan…" Shinoda breathed. "Oh god… Are you seeing this?!"

"Yeah…" Alan said, just as quietly. "I am."

They couldn't see clearly what was going on, but after a few moments they noticed that the dragons started moving, in the direction of the shopping mall about half a mile from here.

"Let's go, Shinoda," Alan said, shaking himself back into action of some sort. "Let's at least see what they're up to. We'll know when King Ghidorah gets here, I'm sure of it."

Shinoda pulled himself out of his shock long enough to nod at Alan, and both climbed into the car. Alan persuaded Shinoda to take the driver's seat; he'd need his hands free for his camera. As they pulled out, it took a few seconds for Shinoda to remember that, in America, they had to drive on the 'wrong side of the road'.

Following Alan's directions, Shinoda steered the car up S Tulane Rd, driving up the hill, past the American Museum of Science and Energy, and turned into the entrance behind the movie-plex where they could clearly see the two dragons in the middle of the mall parking lot. Shinoda couldn't help but notice that the museum looked like it was still intact even after the earthquake. It must have been because it was made out of concrete bricks. He turned his attention back to the task at hand as he pulled the car up into the cinema's parking lot. Right beside them was the beginning of the boomerang-shaped Oak Ridge Mall and Proffits. The two of them climbed out of the car and looked across the car park, Alan taking his camera with him. He held it up to his eye and started taking photos of the two dragons. This was a difficult shoot; the falling ash kept falling onto the lens, and he had to wipe it clean a couple of times before he could resume his photography. He was sure he could hear a conversation, but couldn't make out clearly what it was that was being said.

Shinoda, meanwhile, looked around, noticing several townspeople just milling around as if nothing had happened. _What is the matter with them all?!_ he thought. _There are two dragons in a car park, with a third on the way to kill them all, and they're acting as if nothing has happened!_

It was then that both of them felt the ground shaking beneath them. Alan could see the dragon standing, the claw-like appendages on its wings clasped together like hands. Cracks had grown and stretched across the car park. Then, the next instant, they both saw an enormous glowing sapphire tower rise out of the car park and stretch high into the dark sky above them. When it had extended to its full height, a beam of intense light shot out of the spire and spread, until it covered the town like some kind of dome. Alan and Shinoda could scarcely believe their eyes.

Neither could Carla, who had just pulled up quite close to Alan and Shinoda's hiding place. She had finally reached Oak Ridge after all that travelling and had headed straight to the Days Inn, where she heard Alan and Shinoda were staying. The owner had been very co-operative, saying that they had just checked out. She had followed recent tyre-tracks in the thin layer of ash which lead from the hotel's car park, and then spotted Alan and Shinoda outside Proffits, looking across the car park and taking photographs of the dragons. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, especially as the tower had been raised just as she had arrived. She was so taken aback by this that, for a time, she forgot all about the suspects and continued to stare at the tower and the dragons, wide-eyed. She was so distracted she barely heard Shinoda when he next spoke.

"What in God's name is that?!" Shinoda exclaimed, mouth agape. Carla was taken aback as well. She had read that Shinoda didn't understand a word of English, and she didn't understand Japanese, yet she had understood him as clear as day!

"I…" Alan stammered, taking as many photos as he could of the tower, "I really don't know." He and Shinoda continued to watch the scene for several moments, as the argument between the two dragons became more heated. So too did Carla, whose curiosity at this new development had overridden her desire to carry out her assignment.

"Look!" Shinoda suddenly shouted, pointing upwards. Tilting the camera up, Alan could see dark clouds forming inside the dome itself, spreading around the area of the mall and the surrounding streets. Next instant, what looked like hail fell out of the dark clouds. As Alan followed the hail downwards, he noticed that wherever the rocks fell suddenly burst into flames. He could now see that the rocks were pelting Manda's hide. Miraculously the hail didn't strike the spot where Alan, Shinoda and Carla cowered. As Alan snapped photos, mouth agape with what he was witnessing, lightning suddenly struck Manda; snapping the camera round, Alan noticed it was coming from the other dragon, which now had swooped forward, moving as if to grab something. When he turned to look back at where Manda had been, however, the blue dragon was gone.

"Alan…" Shinoda finally said, after a few moments of shocked silence, "What's happened to Manda? Where is he?"

"I… I don't know…" Alan said, now starting to panic. He scanned the area through the camera lens, trying to catch some sign of Manda and finding none. "I don't see him around."

"You…" Shinoda said, quietly, his eyes widening. "You don't think he's been…"

"Maybe," Alan said, his shock starting to turn into anger. "Let's ask that overgrown turkey there."

It was then that Shinoda grabbed Alan's arm, looking at him as if he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. "Are you crazy, Alan?!" he exclaimed. "What are going to do? Walk up to him and ask if he's killed any other dragons lately?! Whatever he's done to Manda he could do to us!"

Alan pulled his arm free. "Look," he retorted, "Kiryuu's gonna need all the help he can get against King Ghidorah! Whatever that guy's done to Manda, I want to know what!"

Shinoda shook his head. He knew Alan too well to try to reason with him once he got an idea into his head. It was this stubbornness that had got him into trouble with Kiryuu months ago, and now it was getting them into trouble yet again.

"You're mad…" Shinoda muttered. However, even as he thought this, Alan was striding away from Proffits and walking straight across the car park towards the dragon. Shinoda called after Alan, and ran to catch up.

Carla, too, had witnessed the whole thing, standing slightly behind Alan and Shinoda. After that blue dragon had disappeared, she had recovered from her shock long enough to hear the suspects arguing. Dragons, towers rising out of the ground, bizarre weather, and meteors falling out of the sky were too much for her to take.

Whatever was going on here, this went beyond a mere homicide; she never thought she'd see the day when she described a homicide as a 'mere' thing. For the time being, she decided to stay put and see what came out of this. She'd have to wait until they were away from these strange happenings before she could question those two. As Alan approached the dragon, he caught what the huge feathered serpent was saying:

"_You will see… I will show you. And remember, the Tower of Atlantis will be mine."_

"Oi!" Alan shouted, as he marched towards the green dragon, "Hey, you big feather duster! What have you done with Manda?!"

"_Caramba…"_ the dragon muttered, turning to look at Alan with a mixture of surprise and annoyance on his face. _"Who the hell are you?!"_

"Answer my question!" Alan shouted. He was too used to hearing dragons speak to be shocked by it now. "Where is Manda?!"

"Down here, Alan," a high-pitched voice suddenly piped up. Alan actually did a double-take, looking around to try and see where the noise was coming from. It was then that he spotted a large pot, from which it sounded like the voice had come from. He and Shinoda walked over to the pot and looked in. The inside of the pot was filled with boiling water, and swimming in that water was a very unhappy-looking snapping turtle, barely the size of Alan's palm, now looking up at Alan.

Both Alan's and Shinoda's eyes went wide. Alan found a crazy idea forming in his head; by this point, such crazy ideas seemed perfectly rational.

"Manda?" he ventured.

"Yup, it's me," the turtle that was Manda spoke in that same squeaky tone. He jerked his head irritably towards the dragon, who was watching the scene with much amusement. "That bastard turned me into a turtle. Alan, that's my 'friend' I came to see, and I came here to see him about the energy, which came from that damned tower over there. His name is Malcho, CEO of Omak Argon Industries, the creator of Kiryuu's shields. Those shields come from the same make as the shield around us, but Kiryuu doesn't know it yet. He knows nothing of this; there are secrets that are kept even from him. Apparently Malcho's been the puppet master the whole time. There should be a saying out there, never deal with a Dragon; especially a Dragon like Malcho."

In spite of this, Alan could not help but be slightly amused at Manda's predicament.

"Didn't he return your lawnmower either?" he asked in a rather cheeky tone. He never thought it was possible that a snapping turtle could look irritated, but somehow Manda managed it.

"Alan, this is hardly the time for-" Manda was about to argue, but he was interrupted when Malcho leaned his head back and burst out laughing, his brilliantly coloured, feathered mane flipping back behind him. Lightning once more streaked through the sky as he laughed.

_"Lawnmower,"_ the Feathered Serpent cackled. Then, a bolt shot down and struck just ten feet beside Alan. The G-Chaser yelped in surprise, before instinctively spinning round, pulling out his gun and raising it in Malcho's direction.

"_Shut-up."_ Malcho continued, smirking. _"And put the toy away, puto. It's insulting that you think you can hurt me with it."_

"Malcho!" called Manda. "Don't! Alan, look, this really isn't the time for you to be barging in."

_"Who is this gringo?"_ Malcho asked as he snaked his green head down towards Alan, who didn't lower his gun, even though his hand was shaking slightly. The two magenta-colored eyes gazed directly into Alan's own amber eyes. _"And why do his eyes look so familiar?"_

As Malcho gazed even closer into Alan, he saw directly through him into his very genetic make up. And there he saw a terrible, reptilian face letting loose a hollow roar. He threw his head back, growling deeply as he snorted smoke from his nostrils. Malcho barred his fangs when he heard that roar. Then, he blinked, regaining his composure.

_"Ah, I understand,"_ he began. _"You are Kiryuu's grandson."_

Alan was rather taken aback by that statement. The last thing he wanted was for someone to refer to him as Kiryuu's 'grandson'. He got enough of that from Kiryuu himself as it was. It was clear by now that he didn't like Malcho at all. He gazed back at the dragon through narrow eyes, his free hand clenched in a tight fist.

"Alan, please…" Shinoda quietly said, with a pleading look on his face. He just wanted to get away from this creature, and he dreaded to think of what might happen if they pushed their luck. An uncomfortable silence followed. Then, finally, Alan let out a sigh, holstering his gun and turning around to leave.

"I just wanted to help..." Alan muttered, looking at Manda sheepishly.

"The best way you can help us right now," Manda squeaked, "is to keep yourself and Dr. Shinoda alive. Don't worry about me or Kiryuu; we can handle ourselves just fine."

"_Sí," _Malcho nodded, flipping his feathered mane back. _"It is not wise to be poking your noses were they don't belong, muchacho. You better be off. There are more important things for you to do than to sip turtle soup with El Malcho."_

"Gods, don't _you_ love hearing the sound of your own voice," Alan muttered. Giving one last, rather nasty look at Malcho, he walked back towards Proffits, a grateful-looking Shinoda following behind him. It was not just Malcho who had irritated Alan; he was also annoyed by Manda's behaviour. How could the dragon expect him to sit quietly while King Ghidorah tore his planet apart?

_"I'm sorry I had to be short with you,"_ Manda's normal voice suddenly resounded in his head, _"but Malcho could well have put you in this pot with me, or worse. Besides, there is something I need you to do."_

_Will you stop doing that?!_ Alan thought. _I'm not used to people talking in my head!_

"_Sorry,"_ Manda replied, _"but it'll be better for you in the long run to get used to it now rather than later. Anyway, I sensed strange energy signatures coming from Knoxville itself. I think something else might be buried there, like the Tower of Babel was buried here. I leave it up to you whether you wish to investigate; I would go myself, but King Ghidorah's on his way, and I have to be there for Kiryuu. Assuming Malcho lets me out of this damn pot..."_

As Alan began to ponder this strange new development, he suddenly held a hand up to his throat, coughing slightly. His throat had been feeling sore all night, but just now a sudden sharp stinging sensation had occurred.

"Alan?" Shinoda said, noticing this. "Alan, are you alright?"

Almost as quickly as the stinging started, it suddenly faded. Alan's throat still felt more sore than it already had been, however.

"Y-yeah, Shinoda," he said, his voice now slightly raspier, as if he was snarling while speaking. "I-I'm alright."

Shinoda didn't look convinced, but he climbed into the driver's seat anyway, and as soon as Alan had climbed back into the passenger seat they pulled away from the area. Carla followed them shortly afterwards, now confused out of her mind and thinking of plenty of fresh questions for Alan; such as what was going on here and why Alan was conversing with dragons.


	7. The Trail of the Hydra

**The Trail of the Hydra**

As his F-16 sped over the ruined Tennessee countryside, Peter Hutchinson had to wonder how he'd managed to get himself into this mess all over again.

At one time, he was the commander of the Biohazard Countermeasure Unit; a division of the British Armed Forces created specifically for the task of defending the fast-crumbling empire from monster attacks. Because of him being one of the few survivors of the attack on London, and because of his experience with monsters since then, he was regarded as one of the premier minds the British military had on monsters. As a result, two weeks ago he'd been hand-picked to join Delta Force in Fort Brag, Fayetteville, North Carolina, as an advisor, to help prepare the unit for a possible confrontation with Monster Zero. Because of his advisory role, he had not been expected to participate in the field, but after a bit of cajoling and a crash-course in aviation he'd been accepted as a wingman in the 82nd Airborne.

Perhaps if he had known that a number of people in the unit displayed racist tendencies, he would not have been so keen. Certain members of the unit had taken to referring to him as a 'nigger Limey'. Apparently this wasn't unheard of, and Hutchinson himself was no stranger to being insulted because of the colour of his skin, but the powers-that-be couldn't get rid of them because the best soldiers were out fighting in Iraq, and there were fewer people around willing to throw their lives away for their country. The racists in the unit were the minority, but they were by far the loudest minority Hutchinson had ever known.

He, like many others, had felt the quakes ripping through a number of states. He had tried to keep informed of the situation as best he could, eyes on the TV news at every opportunity. He'd also heard that the ankylosaur known as Anguirus, and the pteranodon called Rodan, had appeared near San Francisco. Hutchinson felt it was a shame his unit hadn't been dispatched, for he rather wanted to see those two again.

When he had heard about the meteorite hitting Memphis, his blood had run cold. He remembered exactly how Monster Zero – or rather King Ghidorah – had arrived last time. His worst fears had been confirmed when he'd heard the report of the meteorite's 'hatching'. Not long afterwards, his unit had received the order to scramble and intercept the monster, helping the Tennessee National Guard to halt the monster's advance. Hutchinson knew from experience just how pointless it was to try to fight that thing; if he could survive the amount of napalm they threw at him in London, what good would a few planes do? Missiles were just bows and arrows against the lightning.

When he had received the order, he had been on the phone to his wife, Keira, who was waiting for him back in England. Seemed their young son, Danny, was developing a fascination with giant monsters already. Hutchinson only hoped Danny didn't decide to join the army; he'd be doing everything in his power to put him off. He'd had to cut the conversation short when he received the order, and now, as he flew over the countryside in formation with the rest of his squadron, he doubted if he would ever get the chance to be with them again. This was effectively a suicide mission. He'd informed the squadron as best as he could, but nothing could ever adequately prepare them for what they were about to face.

_I just hope we can buy that Mechagodzilla enough time to get his arse here_, he thought, as they started to approach Nashville. Now they could see King Ghidorah dead ahead; the enormous golden dragon had reduced the city to a pile of smoking rubble. Vivid memories flashed through Hutchinson's mind, of how he had witnessed that monster lay waste to everything in England, even the smaller towns and villages. Millions had died that day, and now Hutchinson couldn't believe he was up against that thing again.

_Just like that bug said_, he thought, as he witnessed the ground forces open fire. However, King Ghidorah launched himself off the ground, the shots either being deflected or missing completely.

"Stay tight, boys," he heard McKormick, the squadron leader, announce over the radio. McKormick was a long-serving pilot and a good man; one of those who had recommended Hutchinson to his superiors. "We've gotta hit him fast and hit him hard, and watch out for that lightning. Hutchinson, any other advice?"

"You mean apart from flying away from him?" Hutchinson replied, in a serious tone.

"Heh, stay calm, man," McKormick said, trying to be reassuring. "You're with the best of the best here, we'll handle it fine. Be ready to fire on my mark."

Hutchinson looked down at his controls. His missiles were locked on and ready to fire. He announced this, as did everyone else. Up above, Hutchinson spotted the B-52 bomber that had been called in to launch the first aerial strike, seeing it open its payload doors. Unfortunately, it would never get the chance to drop its payload, for King Ghidorah suddenly barrel-rolled, swatting the bomber out of the sky.

_Shit…_ Hutchinson thought. _This'll end in tears._

"Now!" McKormick shouted into his radio, "Fire! Hit 'im with everything you've got!"

None of the pilots needed telling twice, for they all fired their missiles at the same time. They hit their assigned target, causing huge explosions which caused the dragon to be momentarily shaken. However, as Hutchinson had expected, he was not hurt. King Ghidorah flipped over and suddenly fired his lightning at the squadron. Hutchinson tilted the throttle to the right, to try and bank away. Unfortunately he just wasn't fast enough; he was caught on the edge of the blast, his left wing being completely destroyed. He could hear the agonised screams of the rest of the pilots over the radio, as they were struck completely by that terrible golden lightning.

"Shit!" Hutchinson exclaimed, as he felt his jet begin to plummet to the ground, fire starting to fill up the cockpit. Alarms sounded all around him, and without stopping to think he slammed his fist on the ejector control. Instantly, his chair was sent careening up into the sky, he felt the force of gravity on his face trying to push him back down. He could barely hear the sound of his plane crashing to the ground above the rushing wind in his ears. As he began to fall again, the parachute on his seat opened, slowing his descent. Hutchinson's heart almost stopped when he realised he was right next to King Ghidorah, who had turned his attention to the ground units and was destroying them with little trouble. As he landed, almost under the dragon's feet, he let the parachute drape over him, listening in horror as the rest of the forces were cut down like dolls.

When it sounded like it was all over, Hutchinson carefully crawled out from under the parachute, hardly daring to breath. He was now scant yards away from King Ghidorah's feet. Luckily, the monster didn't spot him, or else didn't care that he'd missed one insignificant human, and there was a sudden rush of wind as he started to take off towards the east.

Hutchinson looked around, wide-eyed. Nothing but devastation and wrecked machinery remained after that little scene. He ran towards where the ground units had been positioned, seeing nothing but wreckage and bodies. He was now experiencing a strong sense of deja-vu, remembering how he had witnessed his forces get cut down in Whitby by the exact same creature.

"McKormick?" he spoke into his radio, hoping against hope that anyone else in his squadron had survived. "Patterson? Can anyone answer me?!"

No response. All he received as a reply was dead air. Once again, he was all alone. He searched the site of the attack and found the main radio that the ground forces were using; or rather what was left of it, for it was smashed beyond repair. He couldn't even contact the higher-ups and tell them he, at least, was okay.

There was only one other thing he figured he could do; follow that dragon. There was nothing left going west, and he'd need to report to the field commanders near Knoxville and assist them. He scrambled around looking for a vehicle that had not been completely destroyed. He eventually spotted a jeep that still looked serviceable. He climbed in and jammed the starter button. A look of enormous relief spread across his face as the engine roared into life. He steered clear of the wreckage and followed the road in the direction King Ghidorah had gone.

_Well, commanders,_ he thought, _I don't want to say 'I told you so', but… How can this happen to the same guy twice?_

***

A short time later, Alan and Shinoda were parked across the road from a small convenience store. In spite of Manda's request, Alan didn't want to leave for Knoxville just yet, not until after he was sure that they were both ready and fit enough to start their search. Around the corner from their position was Carla, sat in her own car and observing the pair. She didn't want to move in on them just yet, she wanted to avoid making a scene. Besides, after everything she had just witnessed with the suspects and the dragons, she wanted to see just how far all of this weirdness would go.

_Weirdness…_ she shook herself, trying to shake the thoughts out of her head. She was still having a hard time believing that she had just witnessed two dragons – dragons that could talk, no less, and with whom she had seen Alan conversing with - and a magic tower rising out of the ground in the middle of a shopping mall parking lot. She had come here just to take Alan and Shinoda back to Utah for questioning regarding Katagiri's possible murder, but this case had turned out to be infinitely stranger than that. She wondered if the news of what was happening here had reached Utah yet. No doubt if Annie knew of all that was happening here, she would be worried sick. If she ever got through this, they'd have to have a few drinks and celebrate. For now, she waited in silence, observing as Alan returned from the convenience store with bottled water.

Alan climbed back into the passenger's side of the car. After shutting the door he handed Shinoda a bottle, only to find the scientist with a look of deep thought on his face. It looked like something was bothering him. He only responded when Alan poked him with the bottle of water, which Shinoda took and drank from gratefully. Alan also drank, trying to find some way of soothing this sore throat which seemed to be worse than ever. He could barely speak because of it. He really wanted a beer, but knew he would have to remain focused for the impending chase.

"So…" Alan said, his voice sounding raspier than ever, "What's on your mind?"

"Uh, well…" Shinoda said, hesitantly, "I was just thinking, about what happened with that dragon, that Malcho, earlier, and what he said…"

"Oh, don't remind me," Alan said, rolling his eyes. "I think Manda's right; never deal with a dragon. Talk about complete arseholes… I thought Kiryuu was bad, but that oversized peacock's something else entirely. I've half a mind to come back here with some explosives and topple that tower too."

Shinoda sighed. He should have expected Alan to go off on some kind of rant. He could see that Alan had not been in the best of moods ever since that unpleasant encounter, and just knew the chaser would 'vent' at some point.

"And what the fuck's up with everyone in this town?!" Alan exclaimed. "You know what? I reckon they knew that damn tower was here all along, which would explain why they're acting like this is everyday stuff for them. I bet that if Gojira ever showed up here they'd try to tie him up and use him as a cigarette lighter."

"Alan, please," Shinoda said, snatching this chance to interject. "There're a few things I need to say."

"Sure, Shinoda," Alan said, seemingly figuring that he had overstepped the mark. "Shoot."

"I can't help but think about what Malcho said," Shinoda said. "You know… about you been Kiryuu's…"

"Oh…" Alan narrowed his eyes as he spoke, "_That_. Don't you start."

"But…" Shinoda said, stammering slightly, trying to organise his words, "I can't help but wonder if he's right. Ever since the experiment, your genetic ties to both Kiryuu and Gojira could mean that-"

"No!" Alan actually shouted, glaring at Shinoda angrily. "Don't say it! I am not related to Kiryuu or Gojira!"

"But you are!" Shinoda said, this time sounding much surer of himself. "By your blood and your genes, at least. I know you didn't ask for it, but is there any point in trying to deny it?"

"You sound just like that fuckhead Katagiri," Alan said, spitefully. "Neither Kiryuu nor Gojira brought me into this world, they didn't raise me! I don't care what my genes say, they are not my family! King Ghidorah took away the only family I had!"

"Alan…" Shinoda said, trying to remain calm. "Just why do you resent Kiryuu so much? Is it because you don't want to be related to him?"

"I told you-!" Alan started, his temper rising, but Shinoda cut him off.

"I saw your face when Malcho called you Kiryuu's grandson," he said, trying to sound reasonable. "You looked ready to kill. I was really afraid for you, Alan; afraid you would do something stupid. Maybe Katagiri was right; you're now related to Gojira's family, and you don't want to confront that idea."

"But that…" Alan stammered, "He's a… That's… Kiryuu… He…" However, it seemed the words died in his throat, but he found them again a second later. "He didn't have to let me know of those god-forsaken experiments!"

"Alan…" Shinoda sighed. "That was your own doing. You can't blame Kiryuu for that. You chose to pursue the matter of Kiryuu and what he was, no matter what. That's what caused you to meet him, and you chose to take the job he offered, to recover those files. All of that was your own choice. That's another thing you and Kiryuu have in common; you're both too stubborn for your own good."

"But…" Alan stammered, but he simply snarled, failing to come up with a convincing counter-argument. He knew Shinoda was right, but he didn't want to admit it.

"Why don't you talk to Kiryuu about all of this, when all this is over?" Shinoda said, calmly. "I think this is something you need to do, talking to him about your mutation and everything that has led up to this, or this will end up torturing you."

"No!" Alan raised his voice again. "I refuse to talk to that rust-bucket! There's nothing wrong with me! I don't need any help!"

"Are you sure about that?" Shinoda said, his face looking concerned.

"Yes!" Alan exclaimed. "Look at me! Do I _look_ like Gojira to you?!"

"But Alan," Shinoda quickly cut in, "what if that doesn't last? What if this lack of further mutations over the last five years was only a reprieve? What if the mutations come back, and affect you physically as well as genetically? What will happen to you then?"

"Oh, come off it," Alan scoffed, trying to silence the niggling voice of doubt in the back of his mind. "You're being bloody paranoid."

"Can you afford to take that chance though, Alan?" Shinoda said. "If it does happen, and I strongly suspect it will, then I certainly can't help you." He shook his head, his brow furrowed. "I have studied Gojira all of my life, but I will never be able to understand him; not to the level that Kiryuu or Gojira himself can." He turned back to Alan, the fear evident in his eyes. "I'm worried, Alan; afraid of what might happen to you. Those files on the experiment you gave me indicate that further mutations are inevitable. Organiser G-1 will never truly accept your body, and will alter it accordingly. You…" he paused for a moment, but eventually spoke what was on his mind. "You'll truly become Gojira's son."

Alan shook his head, trying to shut out Shinoda's voice. However, his friend sounded so truthful, so patient and reasoned, that he couldn't stop himself from hearing the voice in his head saying that he may be right.

"I know Kiryuu and Gojira didn't bring you into this world or raise you," Shinoda continued, "but when the time comes you may have to regard them as your family if you are to cope. I know you didn't ask for this, but I'm sure they will pull through for you when you most need them, as any real family will. No-one can understand what you're going through, or will one day go through, better than they can, no matter how hard the rest of us try."

Alan had the funny idea that Shinoda was thinking about Io while he was saying this. Alan now felt guilty for dragging Shinoda to this hell-hole, but there was no going back now.

"At least talk to Kiryuu when this is over," Shinoda said. "I know you don't like the idea of having him as your 'grandfather'… but… I don't know… one day you may be glad that you have a second chance at having a family, even one like Kiryuu's."

Alan sighed, holding his head in his hands. He had serious doubts that he would be glad to refer to Kiryuu as his family. God willing, the mutations wouldn't start again, and he would never have to refer to either Kiryuu or Godzilla as 'family'. He clutched his throat as he coughed again, his throat seemingly becoming more painful. He coughed into his right hand again as his left clutched his throat. When he drew his hand away, he noticed blood on his palm. He stared at it, now starting to feel nervous about why he was coughing.

"What's wrong?" Shinoda asked, looking concerned.

"Oh, er…" Alan said, his voice sounding raspier than ever as he hid his hand out of sight. "Nothing."

Shinoda didn't look like he was buying it, but he said nothing more. He didn't want to end up starting another argument as it was, not when things were already so tense.

"Speaking of… Kiryuu…" he said, sitting up straight again. He still looked slightly haggard as he pulled his mobile phone out and switched it on.

"What, are you calling him now?" Shinoda said. "Why?"

"Remember what Manda said?" Alan asked. "The technology the Tower of Babel uses is the same one that Kiryuu has in his shield technology. If King Ghidorah is capable of stealing or using that energy somehow, then when he uses those shields Kiryuu's up the creek without a fucking paddle."

It was clear that Shinoda wasn't entirely sure if what Alan was saying made sense. In fact, he was surprised that Alan was bothering to even try to warn Kiryuu of this supposed danger at all. "Do you think that's true?" he asked tentatively.

"After everything I've seen over the past few days," Alan said bluntly, "I'm not gonna rule out any possibility, no matter how crazy it sounds. Besides, I need to tell him about what Manda said; this other thing that's supposed to be under Knoxville." He looked down at his phone.

"The signal looks pretty weak, but I might be able to get through to him," he said as he keyed in the phone number Kiryuu had given him some months ago. When the line connected, all that could be heard was a loud buzzing. There had to have been a lot of interference coming from the area to mess up the connection so badly. Alan decided to try his luck anyway, speaking into the phone, speaking up slightly to be absolutely sure that Kiryuu heard him;

"Hello? Kiryuu? Can you hear me?"

"Al—is—you? Wh—are—y…?" came a broken voice over the phone. "I—ear—you...Alan—tell—Tennessee? Get...there...Ghi...in...ashville...I...track...movements...heading...there...not...safe... Alan..."

"Shit…" Alan muttered. The signal was very bad; he could hardly hear Kiryuu at all, and he was sure things were just as bad Kiryuu's end. He decided that he had to try his luck though, especially if there was a slim chance he was right.

"Never mind that right now," Alan said, perhaps too forcefully, "just listen to me. Don't use your shields when you go against King Ghidorah. He can use the energy they're made of against you! Kiryuu, did you hear me?"

"Wh...wh....at?" replied Kiryuu, his voice continued to be broken up by the connection. "I couldn't...qu...at. What was that...shields? Alan, your voice...ounds...f...You...frog...oat? Alan...what's happening? There appears to be...some sort of...magne...urbance...y...at. I'm...up...stran...ergies."

"Kiryuu," Alan said, "the shit's hitting the fan here! Just trust me when I say you can't use your shields! You know the energy that they're made of? Well, it turns out…"

However, before Alan could continue, he heard a loud click, and a tone sounded on the phone. The line was disconnected.

"Kiryuu?" Alan called into the phone again, even though he knew that was futile. "Kiryuu?!"

Looking at the screen on his phone, he saw that he could no longer get a signal at all. He could not possibly hope to call Kiryuu again. He snarled in frustration, placing the phone in his pocket. Shinoda became alarmed when Alan snarled. For that moment he had sounded strange… more animalistic.

"I don't believe this…" Alan snarled. "I bet he didn't hear a word I'd said. Now he's flying while he's blind and crippled."

"Alan," Shinoda said, "I think we should just push on to Knoxville. You said Manda had given you a job, right?"

"Right," Alan hissed. Now it sounded like he was genuinely having trouble speaking. He suddenly started coughing again, even more violently than before. Alan held his hands up to his mouth, feeling specks of blood splashing onto them again. When the coughing finally stopped, Alan's throat felt worse than ever. It now felt like live snakes were crawling around inside it.

"Alan?" Shinoda asked, concern in his voice. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

Alan tried to say something, but whenever he tried to speak he felt a violent urge to be sick. Trying to speak had suddenly become very painful. Placing his hands on his throat, he felt it… moving? He was positive now; he could feel the skin on the front of his neck moving under his fingertips. His throat felt like it was burning, and trying to speak only seemed to make it worse.

"Alan?" Shinoda asked again. "What's happening to you?"

Alan only shook his head, a look of panic in his eyes. He turned away from Shinoda, almost as if he was too ashamed to show his face. Shinoda, however, started putting two and two together.

"It's a mutation, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. "Something within you is mutating, isn't it? Listen, you don't have to hide it from-"

Before Shinoda could continue, however, they suddenly heard it. A loud sound, like that of bells ringing, a voice both of them recognised at once. Shinoda's eyes widened in fear.

"He's here…" he said, quietly. "King Ghidorah!"

Alan couldn't say anything, but he reached into the back of the car for his camera. Finding it, he started to prepare it while Shinoda started the engine.

"I memorised the route to Knoxville you showed me as best as I could, Alan," Shinoda said, suddenly becoming very business-like. "There's no way we can get to Knoxville before he does... Are you sure you want to go ahead with Manda's request?"

Alan could only give a thumbs-up as a reply. With that, Shinoda placed his foot on the accelerator, looking very weary, and drove towards Pellissippi Park Way, and onwards towards the Oak Ridge Highway.

Carla, who had been on the point of dozing off from her observing, was suddenly jerked awake by the sound of King Ghidorah's call. At first, the sound alarmed her, and she didn't know what it belonged to. However, she tried to push all thought of the sound out of her head. All that mattered now were Tyler and Shinoda, who were now pulling away from the area and heading towards exit 62 S. She started her own car and took off in pursuit.

The chase was about to begin.

***

The sounds of wings and the bell-like call started becoming louder as Shinoda steered the car towards the edge of town. He drove onwards towards the transparent blue edge of the dome that covered Oak Ridge. He knew that what he and Alan were about to do was highly dangerous, but he knew he'd never be able to convince Alan to let this slide. His English friend was far too stubborn for that. Alan, meanwhile, still seemed incapable of speech. Every time he tried to do so, his throat stung even more.

Figuring he would stop just outside the barrier to try and get a good bearing on King Ghidorah, Shinoda drove onwards towards the blue wall. He drove on, passing straight through the barrier to the nightmarish landscape outside. When he did so, his eyes went wide as he looked into his rear-view mirror. He let out a loud gasp and slammed hard on the brakes, screeching to a halt. Alan, after taking a second to recover from the shock of their sudden stop, glared angrily at Shinoda.

"I'm sorry, Alan," Shinoda said, breathlessly, "but… Look!"

Shinoda looked behind him, and Alan followed his gaze. Alan's own eyes went wide when he saw what had caused Shinoda to stop. Now that they were outside the barrier, it looked like Oak Ridge had completely disappeared. There was no visible sign of it left anywhere. The two of them climbed out of the car and moved towards where the barrier was.

Carla, who was still inside the barrier, had also had to stop sharply as she saw Alan and Shinoda do so. She started to panic, unaware that they couldn't see her. Had they realised they'd been followed, and were now stepping out to confront her? Would she really have to cause an incident in order to get them to come with her? She'd hoped she could do this quietly without causing an incident…

Alan and Shinoda approached the barrier from the other side. Neither of them could believe what they were seeing. It was as if the town had never existed here. As they walked further on, they suddenly collided with the now very-solid barrier. Dazed slightly, Alan held his hand in front of him and pressed very hard on the barrier. No matter what he did, the barrier just would not let him back inside the town. Shinoda tried to do the same, with similarly unsuccessful results. At one point, Alan happened to look right at the spot where Carla was still sat, but of course didn't see her. This confused Carla all the more from her perspective; surely he should have seen him by now? Eventually, Shinoda voiced what Alan was thinking:

"The tower must be generating some kind of cloaking device…" he said. "Such incredible technology… I wonder if it will truly stop King Ghidorah from finding the Tower of Babel, however…"

_I wouldn't place any bets on it,_ Alan thought, as he finally gave up and took his hand away from the barrier. _That Malcho's a fucking idiot; it would've made more sense to just cloak the tower, rather than the whole town. For all their flash and pomposity, dragons are bloody stupid. I reckon King Ghidorah knows exactly what's going on here. No doubt he's sensed all the energy here already, if what Manda says is true and he knows what to look for._

It was then that he heard a low chuckling in his head, a voice that was all-too-familiar. _How perceptive…_ it said, in a mocking tone. _And I thought you were the slow one of your little family._

Alan's eyes widened as he recognised the voice of King Ghidorah in his mind. A second later, he and Shinoda saw the gigantic form of King Ghidorah approaching, could hear his enormous wings beating. The great space dragon passed quite close to where Alan and Shinoda were, certainly no more than a mile away. When Carla spotted King Ghidorah, she actually screamed out loud.

"Come on!" Shinoda shouted, running back towards the land rover. Not needing to be told twice, Alan ran to the car and climbed into the passenger seat, readying his camera. Shinoda climbed back into the driver's seat, and immediately set off down the rural road, in hot pursuit of the giant monster that had brought so many calamities to Earth. Carla barely recovered from her shock to notice the two of them leaving. She quickly set off after them, driving beyond the barrier. She was in such a hurry to catch up to them, she didn't notice that the town had disappeared behind her. She could see Alan start climbing out of the car window, sitting on the edge of the window frame and hanging onto one of the luggage racks as he held his camera in the direction of that giant monster. She could not believe just what the man was doing; was this that 'G-Chasing' she read about in his profile? Seemed like the hobby of complete madmen to her.

Alan hung onto the luggage rack for dear life. As Shinoda increased his speed to draw alongside King Ghidorah, Alan glanced back and spotted Carla following them. He wondered if this woman was another G-Chaser. However, a part of him suspected otherwise; she seemed focused on Alan and Shinoda rather than the monster just under a mile away, almost alongside them. He tried to shake thoughts of their pursuer out of his head as he began to take photos of King Ghidorah. The falling ash was whipping by at high speed, and it stung when it hit Alan, but still he would not be deterred. Even as he took his photos, King Ghidorah's central head turned to face Alan with a cruel smile stretched across his snout. If Alan didn't know better, he could swear the monster was posing for the camera.

_How delightful…_ Alan could hear King Ghidorah's mocking voice in his head again. _The child wants to play with the grown-ups. Very well… How about I make this "chase" a bit more interesting for you?_

As he finished speaking, Alan spotted lights crackling inside the maw of King Ghidorah's right head. Alan recognised this as the sign that his terrible lightning rays were charging up and ready to strike. Next instant, the lightning was unleashed, striking the road right behind Carla. The policewoman cried out as the blast actually lifted the back of the car for a brief moment before it slammed back down. If she had been travelling any slower she would definitely have been hit. Carla was now starting to panic, and became convinced that Alan had a death wish.

All through the chase, King Ghidorah continued to take pot shots at the speeding cars. He deliberately missed both of them, but only by scant inches. A number of times Shinoda had to swerve hard to avoid the sudden explosions in the road, and Alan was finding it harder to hold on. Carla too had several near-misses, doggedly continuing to pursue Alan and Shinoda. Time was running out for her, and she was determined to continue pursuing Tyler while he was chasing this monster; as far as she was concerned, two could play at that game.

Alan, meanwhile, knew that King Ghidorah was just playing with them, like how a cat plays with its prey before the kill, because the dragon had done the exact same thing to Alan himself during his attack on London. Any minute now, one of those terrible rays would strike them all down. It was not a question of _if_ it would happen; it was a question of _when_.

After what felt like an eternity, Shinoda, peering through the dust created by another of King Ghidorah's lightning strikes, finally spotted the enormous monument known as the Sunsphere, a relic from the 1982 World's Fair. The tower the enormous orb stood on was huge, easily dwarfing the other buildings in the area. Gradually, the rest of the city of Knoxville came into view. The landscape around here was especially bleak, with the dark clouds obscuring almost all sunlight and the buildings coated with ash. The city looked dead to Alan. The chaser was surprised that King Ghidorah had not killed them and their unwanted tailgater yet.

_Wondering why I have not just killed you all?_ King Ghidorah spoke again, in that same mocking, self-satisfied tone. _Simple; I want you to bear witness to the destruction of your dear father and grandfather. It will be sufficient proof that none can stand against me, not even your bloodline. Your fate really is in my hands… I can kill you anytime I want, but I thought you would enjoy watching every last member of your family die first._

King Ghidorah's course was taking him in the direction of the University of Tennessee. At the city boundaries, Shinoda stopped the car.

"It's too dangerous to go any further in this," Shinoda said. "Besides, we won't have much use for it if we need to head underground."

Alan had heard him, but he was more focused on getting into Knoxville itself. Whatever was underneath Knoxville that Manda was worried about, they had to find it fast. As he and Shinoda ran into the city itself, he was cursing himself that he had not set out sooner; the imminent battle would surely cause no end of trouble underground

At the same moment, Carla arrived at the scene. Noticing that Alan and Shinoda were continuing their pursuit of that monster on foot, she too got out of her vehicle. Knowing that she was going to regret this, she ran after her quarry.

From deep inside the city, King Ghidorah's call was heard loud and clear, doubtless sending a fresh wave of fear over those still trying to escape from the area.

_Come to me, Tyler…_ the great space dragon spoke once again in Alan's mind. _Take a seat. This will be a show to die for._


	8. Day of the Dragons

**Day of the Dragons**

Alan did not stop running until he was on the fringes of the university campus, where the sight of King Ghidorah landing on the site greeted him. A short distance away was Kiryuu, for once without his helmet. Alan assumed that he had come via Kingston Pike. Knoxville itself mostly stood, but some buildings had been toppled and everywhere was coated in ash, with more continuing to fall. The sky was the approximate colour of lead.

Alan could hear Shinoda catching up to him, but he didn't turn around to look. Instead, he raised his camera and started taking photos as King Ghidorah walked over to Kiryuu and then sat down on his haunches like some kind of cat. He watched as Kiryuu walked around the dragon, looking towards the southeast. Alan knew that the Smoky Mountains were in that direction, and he moved further along to try to get a good view of them. Shinoda followed him, a look of unease stretched on his face. Even from this far away the Smoky Mountains could now be seen, their tall and jagged peaks now black against the horizon. Thunder could be heard, and Alan was sure he spotted lightning flash around the mountains.

"Dear God…" Shinoda breathed, when he saw the sight of the twisted mountain range. "It's like we have become stuck in Hell."

He noticed King Ghidorah shift and turn round, placing a golden claw on Kiryuu's shoulder, to which Kiryuu flinched slightly. Alan could only assume that King Ghidorah was speaking to Kiryuu in his mind, just like he spoke to Alan before. After a few moments Kiryuu shook King Ghidorah's claw free from his shoulder, then the two of them turned to look towards the northwest, in the direction of Oak Ridge. At this point, Alan mentally kicked himself that he had been unable to warn Kiryuu of what exactly was going on there. He only hoped his theory was wrong.

"Well," Shinoda spoke again, now sounding more irritated, "I suppose one of us has to look for a way underground if it's not too much trouble!"

His voice seemed to bring Alan back to his senses. Reluctantly, he put his camera away. Shinoda was right; Manda had given them a job to do, and they had to try and do it. As they were about to start their search, however, a woman's voice called them:

"Mr Tyler! Mr. Shinoda!"

Alan looked aside momentarily to register the presence of the woman who had followed them while chasing King Ghidorah. The chaser wanted a few words with this person; chasers hated tailgaters. However, his current speech impediments made that somewhat difficult.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Shinoda asked. Now this was sounding strange to Alan's ears; the woman had spoken in plain English, while Shinoda had responded in Japanese. Stranger still was that this woman seemed to understand, for she was reaching into her pocket for her wallet, inside which was presumably ID of some kind. To Shinoda's ears, however, she had spoken in fluent Japanese and he had no trouble understanding her. Meanwhile, to Carla, Shinoda was speaking in English, just like he was in Oak Ridge. While she had no idea how that was possible, she decided to use this to her advantage.

"Detective Carla Rigden, Salt Lake P.D." Carla answered, showing her badge to Shinoda. She looked over at Alan, who looked highly irritated, a look that was made more unnerving by his reptilian eyes. She, however, had a job to do; she had to get these two back to Salt Lake, preferably before those two monsters started tearing this place up. This was her first visit to Knoxville and she was already regretting it.

At the mention of Salt Lake, however, Alan barely managed to conceal blind panic. Had the police in Utah finally tracked them down, and wanted to question them over Katagiri's death? He knew it would only be a matter of time before someone found the madman's body, but surely they could not legally arrest them if they were in a different state?

Shinoda seemed to have the same idea, for he looked thoroughly confused. "Salt Lake?" he asked. "Isn't that somewhat outside your jurisdiction?"

"I have special clearance and instructions to take you back to Salt Lake City for questioning," Carla said, continuing her professional demeanour.

_Special clearance?!_ Alan thought. _They must be desperate if they have to resort to this... Damnit Manda, where are you?! I could really use your help right about now._

"Questioning?" Shinoda asked, trying to remain politely-puzzled rather than nervous. The conversation sounded very strange to Alan's ears, with Shinoda speaking in Japanese and Carla answering in English. "Are we under arrest?" the scientist continued.

"No… not yet," Carla added, as some sort of threat. She was hoping to unnerve them, so that they'd let something slip. "We need to question you about a Japanese national named Mitsuo Katagiri. Right now…" she continued, glancing up at King Ghidorah and Kiryuu, "We should move somewhere away from here."

"We can't," Shinoda said, "We're on an important-"

"It was not a request," Carla said, speaking more forcibly and cutting Shinoda off, "It was an order. Now move back to-"

However, before she could finish, for there was a sudden loud crash, as Kiryuu was thrown into the Neyland Stadium. All three spun round to see the spectacle; unnoticed by them, King Ghidorah had managed to grab Kiryuu's tail and throw him into the stadium. The place was reduced to rubble, and the force of the impact almost threw Carla off her feet. As Alan watched, King Ghidorah strode over and pinned the mecha to the ground with his claws. Already, things were not looking good. Alan's eyes widened as he saw King Ghidorah grab Kiryuu's claws and lift him until he was at eye level with the centre head. He quickly raised his camera and zoomed in to get a better view, as it now looked like King Ghidorah was going to strangle Kiryuu. With the aid of the zoomed-in lens, Alan saw that Kiryuu's eyes were widened in pure, unfathomable terror.

_What's wrong with you, Chrome Crotch?!_ Alan thought. _I hate to admit it, but you're made of stronger stuff than this! Now teach him a lesson!_

Almost as soon as he'd thought it, he saw Kiryuu's syntech begin merging together through gaps in his armour. They came together to form some kind of large blade, which Kiryuu proceeded to skewer King Ghidorah with. The dragon shrieked in agony as he dropped his captive. Kiryuu recovered quickly, however, and leapt up into the air again, grabbing two of King Ghidorah's heads on his way up. He carried the monster some ways up, before suddenly throwing him hard against the ground below. The impact was akin to that of the shockwave from a large explosion, and the humans found it hard to keep their footing.

"Hey!" another voice suddenly shouted, barely audible above the din. Shinoda looked around to see the dark-skinned Peter Hutchinson approaching them. He was now carrying an M-16 rifle which he had found in the jeep, and had finally arrived at Knoxville. Something in his gut had told him to go into Knoxville to search for any survivors, and it looked like his gut feelings had been right on the money.

"Oi, you lot!" Hutchinson called again, running up to them. "Don't you see what's happening here! We need to get out of here now!"

"Waddaya think I've been tryin' to tell them?!" Carla replied, highly annoyed. At this, she ran at Alan, trying to drag him away from the site. Alan tried to push her away, startled and irritated at being distracted from his work like this. However, Carla grabbed the strap of his camera and pulled on it, almost choking Alan. She was desperate to get her suspect away from the area and into her custody, and her patience had just run out.

As Shinoda was about to go help Alan deal with the apparently deranged detective, a loud crunching and snapping sound could be heard up above their heads. Alarmed, the four looked up to see that the previous impact had caused a large part of the building behind them to come loose. Suddenly it broke off, and began falling straight towards them.

"Look out!" Shinoda shouted, as he ran to get clear. Alan, however, had to run in the opposite direction, dragging Carla with him. The rubble hit the ground with an ear-splitting smash, and Shinoda and Hutchinson were forced to dive clear as the rubble barely missed them.

As the dust settled, they picked themselves up and surveyed the wreckage. The rubble was covering the whole road. It was impossible to climb over it without risking injury. Shinoda couldn't even check if Alan was okay, since the chaser currently couldn't speak. Despite this, he tried to shout to him.

"Alan!" he shouted, even though part of him told him this was futile. "Alan! Are you alright?!"

Of course, there was no answer. Shinoda was now starting to panic. Behind him, Hutchinson kept shifting his glance from the rubble to Shinoda and back again.

"Dr. Shinoda?" he tentatively asked. He recognised Shinoda from a previous encounter several years ago, when he had gone to Japan to study anti-monster tactics and had found himself caught in the middle of the Mechagodzilla doppleganger's invasion. Unable to count on either the JSDF or the CCI, he had turned to the GPN for help. Shinoda, meanwhile, seemed to calm down slightly as he recognised Hutchinson.

"He can't be dead..." Shinoda muttered. "Please God, don't let him be dead..."

Hutchinson looked around him. It looked possible to walk around the rubble and find out what had happened to the other two survivors. He nodded in Shinoda's direction.

"This way," he said. "Stay close to me." With that, the two began to move around the rubble.

***

As the rubble had fallen, the ground had suddenly given way beneath Alan's and Carla's feet. Both of them had been sent tumbling and sliding down a long chute that was buried under the ground. Finally, some distance below the town, they had come to a halt. Miraculously, both were unhurt though covered in dust. Behind them, the chute they had slid down was covered with rubble, blocking the way out. Sore all over, the two picked themselves up.

"Great…" Carla said, loud enough for Alan to hear her. "Just great. I'm stuck in some tunnel under a town that's gonna get trashed by monsters with a mute lunatic. This ain't my day."

Alan didn't take kindly to Carla's choice of words at all, but she had brought up a good point. He had no idea where he was or how he was going to get back to the surface. Now he was afraid that Shinoda had been caught in the rubble, and if that had happened he knew he would never be able to forgive himself.

He looked behind him, away from the chute and the fallen rubble, and saw a long tunnel leading away from the campus, if Alan had to guess. It was incredibly dark in the tunnel, but he could see down it just fine. It seemed to stretch on for a good long distance, but otherwise seemed unremarkable. He began to head down it, not caring about what happened to Carla.

"Hey!" Carla shouted, not seeing Alan but hearing his footsteps getting further away. "Wait up! You can't just leave me down here!" With that, she ran after him, half-stumbling in the darkness.

***

As Shinoda and Hutchinson moved carefully around the wreckage, Shinoda jumped as Kiryuu released a powerful roar and charged at King Ghidorah. Shinoda spun around in time see Kiryuu pull his fist back, syntech blades beginning to form. However, as Kiryuu swung the blades, his target suddenly flew out of reach and came down on top of him. The dragon actually grabbed Kiryuu's syntech 'dreadlocks', knocking Kiryuu flat onto his stomach before pulling on the dreadlocks and squeezing them. Up until now Shinoda had never thought about how sensitive the dreadlocks must be if Kiryuu normally wore his helmet in battle, but now he was sure that they were extremely sensitive. Kiryuu's screams of agony were deafening, and both humans actually had to cover her ears. Almost at once, Kiryuu's body fell limp, and he collapsed onto the ground, blacking out. Now King Ghidorah was licking his lips, moving his central head close to Kiryuu's ear, almost like he was going to whisper something.

Shinoda wished that there was something they could do to help Kiryuu, but his thoughts were distracted by Hutchinson, who was further away and calling the scientist towards him.

"Dr. Shinoda!" he called. "Come and look at this!"

Hutchinson was further around the rubble, and Shinoda carefully moved up to where he was standing. As Shinoda got closer, he saw that the soldier was standing on the edge of a large hole in the ground, right beside the pile of rubble. Shinoda followed Hutchinson's gaze and peered down the hole, spotting what looked like a stone ramp several feet down below. The ramp sloped away from the university grounds, descending into a tunnel which was now blocked by an enormous quantity of rubble.

"Could they have gone down there?" Shinoda asked, trying to sound hopeful. In truth, he was afraid Alan was now buried in the rubble.

"I can't tell..." Hutchinson muttered, straining to look further down the hole. At that moment, a sound like minor explosions could be heard, each accompanied by a tremor. Hutchinson and Shinoda had to quickly back away as the edges of the hole gave way, further widening the hole. Both looked towards the site of the battle, and saw the titanic, grey-scaled dinosaur Godzilla arrive on the scene. Already he was charging up his blue heat ray, clearly not happy with what King Ghidorah had done to his father. Kiryuu himself was still unconscious.

The golden dragon glanced up at the new arrival, but did not get out of the way in time. Godzilla's blast sent King Ghidorah sprawling into the Tennessee River, the Henley St. Bridge becoming demolished. With the dragon down, Godzilla rushed over to Kiryuu and knelt beside him. He called out several times and tried to rouse his father, but Kiryuu remained still.

"Doctor..." Hutchinson said quietly, almost as if afraid that King Ghidorah would hear him. "We've got to get out of here. We can try to find another way into that tunnel."

Hutchinson's words stirred something in Shinoda's memory. He remembered something he had read in one of the translations Alan had written. Something had been mentioned about a series of catacombs that existed underneath Knoxville itself. Apparently there were miles of tunnels underneath the city, a lot of which were still unexplored. He tried to recall where the text had said the entrances were. He remembered reading that there was one at an old cemetery north of the campus.

With a start, he realised that there still might be one chance. He carefully stepped around the hole in the ground and began to run off towards the northern part of the town. Looking at him, Hutchinson followed, calling after him.

"Hey!" he called. "Wait for me!"

Behind them, King Ghidorah emerged from the river, once again completely unfazed by Godzilla's attack. The two humans tried to shut the loud noises of battle out, focusing on the thin hope that they had.

***

"Look, Tyler," Carla was saying, as she stumbled in the dark, earthy tunnel behind Alan, "there's nowhere else you can go. Even if I didn't find you, the Tennessee police would have moved in on you anyway. Why don't you just come quietly when we get out of here? I don't know if you're an actual mute or whatever, but give me some kind of sign you understand, right?" She had tired of trying to argue with Alan and was trying for a diplomatic approach, which was proving to be just as unsuccessful.

They had been marching through the tunnels for some time at a fast pace. Alan had long come to the conclusion that they had fallen into the catacombs he had read about underneath Knoxville. He was astounded that it hadn't occurred to him that there might be something here King Ghidorah wanted, and now Manda's request had brought that idea back to the surface. Manda seemed to have made it clear that King Ghidorah was more interested in the mountains, but he'd also clearly been worried about the energy patterns in the catacombs. All of this was making Alan's head spin.

He also wondered how he could possibly shake off the detective still with him. The woman had tenacity; that much he could say in her favour. Still, he could think of a few 'signs' he would have liked to give her at that point, signs that doubtless would have got him in more trouble with the police so he refrained from using them.

Mere minutes passed, though it felt like hours to Alan as he trudged on through the tunnel. At last both he and Carla saw a faint light, coming from around a corner. Moving closer to it, Alan noticed that the light was of a strange indigo hue, and seemed to be pulsing. Feeling anxiety come over him like a crashing wave, it took all of Alan's resolve to continue walking towards the light.

"Finally..." Carla muttered. "Now maybe we'll be able to see where the... exit..."

Her voice trailed away as Alan walked towards the light. Following him, watching the light becoming ever brighter, the tunnel suddenly opened out, and when Carla saw the same sights that Alan was seeing her eyes almost popped out of her head.

The tunnel had opened out into an enormous cavern, larger than a football stadium. It was a huge space, the ceiling supported by rocky columns. The tunnel came out somewhere between the floor and the ceiling, as a narrow rock like a natural bridge led out onto a huge rocky podium in the middle of the space. Mounted on this podium was what looked to Alan like a giant blue ballista, hundreds of feet long and with what looked like indigo lightning crackling along its surface. The whole room was bathed in this glow; as Alan looked at the columns, he swore he could see the light shining from below the rock. There was a strange humming sound as well, and Alan noticed that it was very slowly rising in pitch.

_This is it..._ Alan thought, his eyes wide. _This has to be what Manda was talking about._ With that, seeing no other way to go, he started to walk across the rocky bridge. Carla followed after a moment, still taken aback by the sights that she was seeing. In the moment, she forgot what it was she was trying to do, but right now following Alan seemed to be the only way out of the caves.

As they approached the podium with the giant ballista, the humming sound grew louder, and Alan spotted what appeared to be a control platform at the base of the mechanism. The platform was large enough to fit about ten people, and tall columns were placed around the edge. Alan assumed some kind of barrier went between the columns so that the operators did not accidentally fall off the platform, but nothing of the sort seemed to be activated. The ballista itself continued to crackle with energy, and as Alan got closer he saw that the control console – at least he assumed it was the control console – was lit up, showing a number of holographic displays of the ballista and other images he could not comprehend. Around the other side of the console, Alan noticed another rocky bridge that continued to a sealed passageway cut into the other side of the cavern. The rocks blocking the passage didn't look particularly heavy.

As he was about to examine the control console further, the pain in his throat suddenly flared up again. The sensation he was feeling was almost unbearable; it felt as if someone had poured a kettle of boiling water down his throat. He doubled over, coughing up his own blood, and reaching his hands to his throat. Under his fingers he could feel the skin on his neck moving, his head felt like it was going to split open and his heart pounded painfully in his chest. For a moment, he thought he could hear a sudden cry of pain from a great distance away; his eyes widened in shock.

"Tyler?" Carla called to him, looking nervous. She noticed the blood spilling onto the floor in front of him. "Tyler, what's-"

She was interrupted as a sudden golden flash of lightning shot out of the open air, somewhere near the ceiling of the cavern in front of them. The lightning streaked down until it struck Alan square in the chest, just above the heart. For a moment, Alan was frozen, doubled over, a look of shock on his face, then his body crumpled backwards, collapsing to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

Even as the shock of this attack was hitting Carla, she heard a crackling sound. Realising what was about to happen, she dived for cover behind the control console just as another golden lightning bolt streaked out of the darkness, missing her by a mere foot. She drew her gun, breathing hard, then leaned around the console and fired in the direction the bolts had come from. She heard nothing, so assumed that she had missed whatever she was supposed to be aiming at. The attack had come so suddenly she had not been able to get a glimpse of what had struck Alan down.

As she crouched behind the console again, her heart beat faster and she began to shiver from head to toe. The full gravity of her situation was now pressing down on her. All of this time she had tried to remain calm, but now she was not sure how much more of these bizarre events she could take. She had seen so many strange, horrible things, and now she was on the point of doubting her own sanity; the whole thing felt like some nightmare she had stumbled into.

"Dear God..." she muttered frantically as she inched her way around the control console. "God, help me... Help me..."

It was then that, over the electronic hum, she heard a sound like that of rushing wings, coming from right behind her. As she spun round, she was suddenly grabbed by the neck, so tightly that she was having trouble breathing. She gasped and struggled as she suddenly felt herself being lifted off the ground. She tried to raise her gun, but her attacker simply pulled it out of her hand.

Unable to turn her head in the attacker's choking hold, she could only see straight at the figure. Her eyes widened when she saw who was now holding her. It looked like some bizarre cross of human and reptile, the body covered in glistening golden scales and sharp talons where the hands and feet should be. It was covered in the tattered remains of what might have once been respectable clothing. A long thin tail cracked behind it like a whip, and a pair of large golden wings had grown out of its back, which were now flapping to keep them both suspended several feet above the platform. Its face was a twisted mixture of human and reptile, the face pushed out slightly like a small snout and blazing red eyes with cat-like pupils gazing pitilessly at her. Horns adorned the head, and a mane of long golden hair could be seen.

With a start, Carla remembered that this creature bore a striking resemblance to the three-headed dragon she had seen on the university campus. She trembled as malice seemed to radiate from this creature like heat. The piercing gaze gave her the impression that she was being X-rayed.

"You are beyond anyone's help, mortal," the attacker suddenly said, in what sounded to Carla like two voices; one a thin and rasping tone, the other a deep, commanding voice. Both voices sounded male, but this bizarre quality to it was enough to cause a shiver to run down Carla's spine just to listen to it.

It was then that the monster suddenly threw her away, and she was sent crashing to the platform below. The momentum of the throw had sent her right to the edge between two of the columns, where she found herself rolling over the edge. It was only through chance that she was able to grab onto the ledge and stop herself from falling and being dashed against the rocks below. She felt agonising levels of pain from her fall, her vision had gone fuzzy, and she felt sure that a bone somewhere had been fractured or broken. Hanging onto the edge was taking every ounce of strength that she had left. The stranger, meanwhile, hovered above the platform, looking down at the struggling Carla with a look of amused contempt on his face.

"I will not prolong this farce," he sneered. "There are mere seconds until the Meson Collider is fully charged. Then my mighty lord can complete his work... and I will start with you!"

As Carla watched, she could see the same golden lightning beginning to crackle, deep in the back of the creature's maw. She tried to pull herself up, but her strength seemed to have failed her. She looked away, knowing that the only thing she knew for certain was that she was going to die, and she would never know why.


	9. Apocalypse Please

**Apocalypse Please**

What neither Carla nor the stranger had noticed, however, was that Alan's body had moved. As a matter of fact, the chaser had quietly slid away from the struggle, and had climbed up one of the columns behind the creature. Fortunately, between the loud noise of the humming and the attention on Carla, the creature didn't spot him. Somewhere in the back of Alan's mind, he knew that he had been extraordinarily lucky; if the lightning bolt had hit just an inch lower and pierced his heart, he was sure that he would be dead. As it was, Organiser G-1 had kicked in almost immediately and had healed Alan's wounds, leaving a large scar burned into his chest, though the pain in his throat had not quite subsided.

Right now, of course, that did not matter to him. Nothing mattered to him. An unfathomable level of rage was coursing through his veins like poison, blurring his thoughts. The only thing he wanted now was to make the abomination that had hurt him suffer in any way he could. All rational thought seemed to have been pushed out of his head, as he watched the back of the creature through narrowed eyes, his lips curled into a snarl.

Once the lightning began to form in the creature's mouth, he suddenly jumped off the column towards him. As he launched himself, he suddenly let out a loud roar from his throat, like a battle-cry. The sound was just like Godzilla's own trumpet of a roar. Even though the creature turned to face him, he did not get out of the way in time, and Alan collided with him in mid-air, sending the two of them plummeting to the platform and landing with a sickening crunch. The creature recovered quickly, however, kicking Alan off him and sending him sprawling before launching himself to his feet.

"I should have remembered," the creature snarled, his twin voices full of fury, "that your kind does not die so easily. No matter; you are still too late to save your precious grandfather!"

Alan just released an animalistic snarl and lunged at the creature again, but this time the creature was ready for him. With a mighty flap of his wings he launched himself off the ground, with Alan missing him by inches. Mockingly, he hovered a few feet out of Alan's reach, prompting the chaser to release another Godzilla-like roar of frustration.

The creature struck again with the golden lightning bolts, prompting Alan to jump out of the way. However, he was not so lucky when the second bolt was launched. He was struck on the arm and sent reeling, a horrible prickling sensation shooting all over his body for a moment which made his hair stand on end. Before he could retaliate, he was shot again by the lightning, this time on the leg, and was sent sprawling to the floor. He cried out in pain as the creature kept the lightning trained on him, clearly aiming to torture Alan before killing him.

However, Alan's attack had given Carla time to pull herself back onto the platform, after a great deal of effort. She was horribly aware that her right leg now felt extremely painful; she was quite sure that it was broken. Trying to stand had proven to be too painful, so for the moment she settled for lying on the floor, watching Alan's struggle. She looked over towards the control console for the ballista. She was sure that this was what the creature was referring to when it spoke of a 'Meson Collider'. While she could not for the life of her figure out what one of those was, she was sure it was important to this thing that had almost killed her.

With a great deal of effort, she used one of the columns to pull herself upright, her right leg hanging limp. With difficulty she hobbled over to the control console and looked at it more closely. The whole interface seemed incomprehensible to her; there was no obvious keyboard, and she could not figure out what the strange symbols on the displays meant. The only one that seemed familiar to her was a display showing the ballista, split into various segments, all of which were presently glowing green. She also noticed row upon row of delicate-looking crystals, all of them pulsating with different-coloured glows.

Since these crystals were in such a prominent position, she guessed that they had to be of some importance to the mechanism. So she clenched a hand tightly around one of the crystals, glowing with a pale blue light, and pulled hard. The crystal came straight out of its slot, and a shower of blue sparks suddenly erupted from the console, almost blinding Carla. A faint sound could be heard, like a high-pitched whistling, and a part of the ballista display suddenly flashed red.

Upon hearing this, the creature turned its attention away from Alan. As the chaser lay on the floor gasping for breath, his attacker turned away towards the console. When he saw what Carla had done, his face gained a look of horror.

"No!" he shouted, swooping down towards the console. "What did you do?!" He turned to Carla with a look of blazing fury, and saw the crystal that she was holding.

Behind him, Alan had staggered to his feet, his body healing from the injuries he had suffered. He shook his head, no longer filled with the rage that had coursed through him earlier. It was as if a red haze had suddenly lifted. As he looked around, he saw the creature that had attacked now advancing on Carla, who was trying her best to look defiant in spite of the colour draining from her face.

"That was your last mistake, mortal," the creature snarled, and now Carla could see the golden lightning beginning to crackle in the back of the creature's maw. She tried to stop herself from trembling, and failed.

All of a sudden there was a loud crack, and the creature felt something being wound tightly around the joint between his left wing and his back. Looking behind the creature, Carla noticed that Alan had pulled out his bullwhip and lashed out with it, snaring the creature's wing. Though the creature tried to take off and drag Alan down, the chaser stood his ground, and with every effort he could muster was advancing while trying to pull the creature towards him.

"Get off!" the creature yelled, suddenly spinning around with such force that Alan was dragged towards him, almost toppling over. "I swear I will kill a mortal today!"

With that, he started to charge the golden lightning once again, but this time Alan was ready. He lunged forward, grabbed the creature's mouth and forced the face to point upwards away from him. The lightning shot into the ceiling, and for a moment the pair grappled with each other, each trying to throw the other aside. Carla, meanwhile, continued to pull out more of the crystals from the control console, causing more sparks to fly and the whistling sound to grow louder.

Alan tried to reach for his gun, but doing so meant he had to release his hold on the creature's free arm (the other one was trying to force Alan's hand away from his snout), and the creature swiped at his face with a claw. Alan leaned back slightly to save his eyes from being gouged out, but the claws were still able to rake across his face, leaving several large cuts. Half-blinded and agonised, Alan cried out, his shouting now a bizarre mixture of Godzilla's and his own. Though he instinctively wanted to recoil, he fought that urge, pulled his Desert Eagle out of its holster, and fired. His shots hit the creature's right wing, right on the bone that attached the wing to the back. After four or five rounds in this spot, the creature let out a shrill, bell-like cry, and the shattered wing fell limp, now useless.

While the creature was agonised, Alan launched a swift kick in the midsection, causing him to double over. Now that this opponent had been defeated, Alan was able to focus more on what was happening around him, and he looked over at the console in alarm. By now Carla had pulled out nearly all of the crystals, but the eruption of sparks flying from the machine prevented her from reaching any more. The display of the ballista was flashing red completely, and loud crackling sounds could be heard from some distance away, coming from the construction itself.

Alan didn't need more than one guess at what was about to happen, so he quickly grabbed his weapons and started to run towards the other bridge. As he did so, a sudden quake shook the cavern, almost sending Alan toppling over the edge of the platform. By pure luck, the quake shook apart the rubble blocking the exit, leaving the way clear. As Alan reached the bridge, however, he head Carla's voice above the cacophony of noise coming from the ballista.

"Hey!" she was shouting. "Tyler! You can't just leave me here!"

Turning around, Alan spotted Carla struggling to get away from the ballista, barely able to hobble. As another quake occurred, she fell and landed painfully on the platform. She looked very pale, her face caked in sweat. Part of Alan wanted to leave her, knowing what she was and what she had come to do. In the end, however, his morals got the better of him and he moved back to the platform. He pulled Carla to her feet and draped her arm around him, and the two half-ran, half-stumbled across the deteriorating stone bridge, as the ballista began to collapse behind them. Looking behind him for a brief moment, Alan saw the creature struggling to the platform, trying to fit the crystals back into place.

The tunnel was lit by dazzling blue light as Alan and Carla ran down it for dear life, and as they did so sudden bursts of blue energy shot right past them. It was as if all the excess energy from the ballista was being channelled away. A violent rumbling suddenly occurred, and the light in the tunnel suddenly became blinding as a wave of energy washed over them and knocked them to the floor. Alan was sure that this meant the ballista had finally being destroyed. He only hoped that this was the right thing to do, but it really didn't seem like they had had any other choice in the matter.

Carla gasped hard, seething from her pain, her face a mask of shock. She seemed rather reluctant to let Alan pull her back to her feet and barely made any effort to move as Alan proceeded back down the now-dark tunnel. It seemed that the shock of all that had happened to her had stunned her into silence. For several minutes the trek through the passages continued in silence, until Alan saw a faint light coming from around a corner, and a voice could be heard.

"Shh!" the voice was warning in a loud whisper. "Do you hear that? Sounds like someone's down there!"

Coming around the corner, Alan saw that the tunnel ended up ahead, and the passage opened out into what looked like an open, well-lit cavern with lamps hung from the supports. A pile of rubble covered the floor, half-burying the door, suggesting that the passage had been blocked but the quakes had uncovered it. Stood on the other side was a figure that Alan recognised to be Hutchinson, who lowered his rifle and beamed as he saw the two approach. He turned back to the inside of the cave and called behind him.

"It's them! They made it okay!"

As Alan tried to pick up some speed to reach the hole, he could see Shinoda's scared-looking face appear by Hutchinson's. A look of enormous relief washed over his face. However, both his and Hutchinson's faces turned to looks of horror as Alan heard a rustling sound behind him.

"Get down!" Hutchinson yelled. Alan wasted no time in dropping to the ground, Carla right behind him. A split-second later a golden lightning bolt shot out from behind them, streaked over their heads and struck the wall near Shinoda's head. Twisting to look behind him and ignoring Carla's grunts of pain, he watched in horror as he saw a bruised, bloodied creature advancing down the corridor, emitting that horrible bell-like call, glaring at Alan with pure concentrated venom. It marched closer to them, another bolt of lightning charging deep in its maw. Alan reached for his gun, but knew he could never reach it in time.

All of a sudden, the loud sound of automatic fire came from close by, and the creature shrieked in agony as his torso became peppered by bullets. For several seconds the creature staggered as it was hit repeatedly, the body being ripped apart by the white-hot metal, until finally there was a dull click, and the creature collapsed face-first to the floor. Alan and Carla dragged themselves away from the body, and Alan looked around to see Hutchinson stood in the hole, a grim expression on his face and the barrel of his rifle still smoking. Both he and Shinoda clambered through the hole, and Shinoda helped Carla back to her feet while Hutchinson did not take his eyes off the creature.

"Jesus..." Hutchinson exclaimed. "That's what a Liche is supposed to look like?!"

"A what?" Shinoda asked, looking repulsed by the body.

"A Liche," Hutchinson explained. "It's a person possessed by King Ghidorah, like a sort of henchman. I didn't know the skin would actually turn the person into a mini-Ghidorah, though."

"What the hell did you just say?" Carla spat. "What the hell's a King Ghidorah? And what the fuck are you?!" she finished, glaring at Alan.

Alan wasn't sure what Hutchinson was talking about with the whole 'skin' aspect, but he understood the rest perfectly. He remembered what Manda had said before back at the Utah Foundation's base about King Ghidorah being able to control others somehow. Whoever this person was, they were a victim of it. He also remembered that Manda spoke of Kiryuu being controlled, and he hoped and prayed that prophecy had proven unfulfilled.

Before anyone could answer Carla's question, however, a horrible rattling sound reached their ears. As they watched, the Liche's body moved, desperately hanging onto life, a puddle of blood gathered beneath him. Alan could sense that he was moments away from death, but was not willing to wait that long. Remembering that he had just one bullet left in his gun, he pulled it out and stood over the creature, aiming the Desert Eagle at his head. The Liche reached out a clawed arm, still gazing at Alan with pure hatred, even though the light of life was leaving his eyes. Alan just looked cold, choked with a silent fury of his own.

"Tell your master from me," he snarled, his own voice mixed strangely with Godzilla's chirruping, "that he can get the fuck off my planet!"

With that, he fired the bullet straight into the Liche's head, the shot echoing loudly through the tunnel. The creature's body fell limp, and the harsh breathing stopped. Alan then simply turned around and walked towards the hole, the others staring at him in shocked silence. Before climbing through the hole, Alan turned back to them with a grim expression.

"Let's get out of here," he said, his voice now his own again.

***

As they left the catacombs as quickly as their own fatigue and Carla's injuries would allow, the four of them talked about what had happened to them. In the distance, the sounds of the battle grew louder as they finally stepped out onto the surface. The blackened sky meant that it was not much lighter there than it was underground.

"How do you know so much about this 'Liche' anyway?" Alan was asking Hutchinson when they emerged from the tunnels.

"I..." Hutchinson paused for a moment. "I found out from people in-the-know, so to speak." He still did not feel ready to tell anyone that he had found out about the Liche from a mental patient, a giant moth and two tiny fairies not much bigger than his middle finger.

_It's Manda,_ Alan thought, guessing incorrectly. _I swear he's just as bad as Kiryuu for playing games with people._

The passage emerged into a large graveyard, as coated in ash as the rest of the city was. However, unlike the rest of the city, which was silent and deserted, Alan gasped as he saw strange shadowy forms floating a few inches off the ground. The forms had a strange greenish glow, and they also seemed vaguely humanoid-shaped though very blurred, as if someone had drawn them then tried to erase them. Instinctively, Alan reached for his whip, but Hutchinson held up a warning hand.

"Calm down," Hutchinson said. "They can't hurt us. Matter of fact, I don't think they do anything; just float about. They didn't react at all to me and Dr. Shinoda when we came through here."

"They're like... ghosts," Shinoda said simply, as the quartet headed towards the iron gate at the exit. The strange vapours ignored them, seemingly content to wander aimlessly. Alan remembered reading something in his notes about a cemetery in the city that was said to be haunted, but he pushed that thought out of his head. Right now there were more important matters, such as what was happening to Kiryuu. Although he hated to admit it, he was worried about how Kiryuu was doing in his struggle. In the distance the towering titans could be seen, still engaged in battle.

Upon leaving the graveyard, the group was able to commandeer an abandoned taxi. Alan took the wheel, and as the engine kicked into life he set off towards the university campus. The others did not argue; the scenes in the caves and Carla's account seemed to have unnerved them. They were almost too scared to try to argue with him or contradict him; Carla in-particular looked on the verge of fainting. All around them the city was desolate and covered in ash, though the destruction of the ballista did not seem to have had noticeable repercussions above ground.

As they drove over the bridge spanning the river, Alan kept trying to glimpse the battle between Kiryuu and King Ghidorah as he drove. He noticed that both Manda and the unconscious Godzilla were now present when he saw Kiryuu's back spines light up. They were now glowing with a brilliant violet-white light. Alan caught a glimpse of Manda's face, which looked how Alan felt; he gazed in total astonishment. He had read reports of Kiryuu actually having a breath weapon like his son, but now he would get to see it first-hand. Godzilla awoke at that moment, barking weakly, watching his father intently. Even Malcho, who Alan had just spotted hiding in a forest of dead trees seemed to take an interest, as he saw him momentarily poke his head above the trees to have a look. For the first time, King Ghidorah seemed to panic, as he stopped his charge and tried to run away. Kiryuu reared his head back, seemingly sucking in the air around him as he prepared to fire.

Then suddenly he fired, expelling an enormous dazzling purple fireball straight towards King Ghidorah. The explosion was so forceful that the taxi was almost blasted off the ground, even at this range. King Ghidorah braced himself against the blast, digging into the ground with his claws. Alan veered the taxi wildly, and the vehicle went careening out of his control and into the back of a stationary bus. Luckily no-one was seriously hurt, and the group decided to abandon the wrecked taxi and strike out on foot, Hutchinson supporting Carla. As Alan watched, Kiryuu launched a swift punch at one King Ghidorah's central jaws, for with a start Alan now saw that the monster had grown a new head.

However, the other three heads responded quickly, all blasting Kiryuu with their lightning simultaneously. Kiryuu was sent flying, and landed with a sickening crash which reduced the Henley and Cumberland areas to rubble. As King Ghidorah rose again, Alan could see Kiryuu looked down and out for the count. He was lying on his back, mouth open, motionless. If Alan didn't know better, he would say Kiryuu was dead. He could hear King Ghidorah chuckle as he walked over towards the mecha's body.

"Kiryuu!" Alan shouted, even though he was sure Kiryuu couldn't hear him. He didn't know why he shouted, it just seemed to have burst out of him.

_Now to finish what I started..._ King Ghidorah said in Alan's mind, as he stood over Kiryuu's body, clearly planning to end the fight here and now. In spite of himself, Alan ran towards the two creatures, hoping that whatever plan Kiryuu had, he would act on it, and fast.

He was not to be disappointed, for Kiryuu's eyes suddenly snapped open. Alan spotted his chest open up, and a blue glow could be seen from within. Alan realised that this must be the Absolute Zero cannon, a super-cold laser that had been part of Kiryuu's arsenal since day one. Suddenly it fired, the blast encasing half of King Ghidorah's body in ice. Kiryuu quickly slid farther down, towards the dragon's stomach. Alan could not think why, and as he watched he saw Kiryuu thrust his syntech into the dragon's body, before proceeding to slice off the syntech that was in the body.

For a moment, Alan could not think why such a thing had happened; he could only guess that Kiryuu had put something inside King Ghidorah's body. It was then that he heard King Ghidorah's malevolent voice speaking in his mind again:

_This world my death will create will destroy what you have left of your pathetic civilization, _the dragon was saying. _I have won, no matter what happens to my body._

All of a sudden something did ignite within the hydra's body. The ice shattered and fell away, and King Ghidorah let out an ear-splitting cry of agony as Kiryuu quickly scrambled away. Looking down at the spot Kiryuu had skewered him, Alan saw the skin dissolving, parts of it simply falling away. This was not isolated to that area either, for in a matter of seconds the entirety of King Ghidorah's body was dissolving, the flesh becoming completely destroyed from within, like invisible maggots were eating the dragon from the inside out. Finally, with a start, Alan's eyes widened when he remembered where he had seen this horrifying display before.

Finally, not a trace of King Ghidorah's flesh remained, only a skeleton that collapsed on top of the mound of ice. Alan experienced a very vivid flashback, a scene on an ocean floor from many years ago, as the very same weapon Kiryuu had just used had destroyed his own flesh body, along with the man who created this terrifying weapon...

"He did it..." Alan said, inexpressible anger coursing through his veins. "He actually did it..."

As he looked around, he could see that the others had caught up with him; all three of them were now staring at the horrifying spectacle with wide eyes. Carla was actually visibly shaking, then all of a sudden her eyes rolled into her head and she fainted, finally unable to cope with the sights she had seen any longer. Hutchinson quickly grabbed her as she fell, and set her down gently. She had seen a lot, probably more than anyone should. Maybe it was better that this happened; it spared Alan from a lot of awkward questions from her. Maybe she'd forget all about Katagiri as well.

He watched as Kiryuu engaged in conversation with Manda and the now-out-of-hiding Malcho. He could not really hear what they were saying, though right now it felt as if his other senses had become benumbed; only his eyes seemed to work, gazing at the spot where King Ghidorah's skeleton lay, remembering the terrible statement the monster had made just mere seconds from death. It was only when Shinoda approached him and spoke that he seemed to come back to his senses.

"That was..." Shinoda said, his voice full of nervous anxiety. "That was the Oxygen Destroyer, wasn't it? The weapon that killed Kiryuu all those years ago?"

Alan slowly nodded, not wanting to believe it. "That bastard promised me he wouldn't build another," he said, in a low tone. Shinoda could guess who Alan meant.

"Alan, maybe there was no other way," Shinoda said reasonably. "Perhaps no other weapon could possibly have destroyed King Ghidorah? Maybe it's for the best... Maybe, just this once, it has made everything okay..."

Alan shook his head fiercely, turning away from his friend.

"I wish I thought the same," Alan thought, his tone very grave. "I really do." All kinds of horrible doubts were now flooding his mind. He was sure that King Ghidorah meant every word he had said, and Alan now was feeling a horrible realisation that it all may very well be his fault. If he had not recovered the information about the Oxygen Destroyer, things would have been very different.

"Hey!" Hutchinson suddenly shouted. "Where'd they go?!"

Alan looked to where the soldier was facing, only to find that Kiryuu, Godzilla and the dragons were gone. At first he thought they must have taken off while he was wrestling with his doubts, but he knew he would've heard them leave. Right now, however, he was feeling too tired, too weary to even care about that. All that was going through his mind was the horrible feeling that he may be responsible for worse things to come.

He looked all around him, at the desolate landscape and the ruins of Knoxville. It would be a long time before this city recovered from the disasters that it had borne witness to on this day, and it would seem the landscape would never recover. He looked out across to the horizon, to the jagged, lightning-strewn peaks that still stood as a permanent reminder to King Ghidorah's terrible power. Finally, he glanced at King Ghidorah's skeleton, wondering if the future perhaps belonged not to the human race, but to that demon.

"Listen," Hutchinson said to him, trying to keep his voice level. "I'll be honest; I don't fully understand what happened down in those caves, or about what's happened to you. After everything I've seen and heard though, I think you'd better get out of here before you have to answer any awkward questions. I'll stay with her," he continued, nudging his head in Carla's direction. "Just go."

"Thanks," Alan said, nodding appreciatively. He didn't want to stay in this place any longer than he needed to. Shinoda too looked relieved, and Alan could tell it was Io he was worried about. He idly wondered if Io would be pestering Kiryuu for answers regarding her father and her friend. He also knew they had to find Manda and report to him what had happened in the catacombs. With a pang of regret, he realised that his camera had been buried under the rubble after the fall that lead him into the catacombs; the events seemed to have driven it out of his mind.

So he and Shinoda started heading back towards Western Avenue, back towards their car, while Hutchinson picked up Carla forklift-style and carried her southwards towards the edge of the city. No doubt there would be a military garrison somewhere nearby. The soldier was not entirely sure what he was to tell his superiors; he reasoned that he would not have to tell them the _whole_ truth, just what he knew. He was sure they had better things to be worrying about than what one 'insignificant' soldier had been doing during a monster attack.

He noticed Carla stirring fitfully as he carried her. He wondered if she was going through what he himself had been through after the attack on London; perhaps her nightmares were being haunted by King Ghidorah just as his had been.


	10. Reports from the Rubble

**Reports from the Rubble**

Later, Carla regained consciousness. She found herself lying on a camp-bed, in what looked like a makeshift hospital, on Knoxville's outskirts. She saw paramedics running around, tending to those who for one reason or another had not evacuated in time. Soldiers also patrolled the area with guns, and she could see police cars and fire trucks racing past. It looked like all of Tennessee's emergency services, not to mention the National Guard, were in overdrive. On the opposite bed sat a dark-skinned soldier, looking at her, his face streaked with dirt.

"Finally, you're awake, love," he said to her, speaking with a slight cockney accent. Carla shook herself, still feeling groggy.

"Where am I?" she asked, barely able to get the words out, she felt so ill. "What happened?"

"You passed out in the city after the battle," Hutchinson told her frankly. "Good thing I was around, eh?"

"I remember..." Carla said quietly, holding her head in her hands. "That monster... it was dissolving... and Tyler..." Her eyes snapped open, as she looked around her. "Where'd he go?" She looked at Hutchinson intently. "Where did Tyler go? He's got a lot of explaining to do!"

Before Hutchinson could say anything, a gruff-looking man in police uniform approached her. He was of a fairly big build, with a bushy moustache and iron-grey hair clamped on his head like some sort of helmet. He had the sort of face that could curdle custard.

"Detective Rigden?" he addressed her as. It took Carla a couple of seconds to realise he was talking to her.

"Yeah, that's me," Carla said, sounding like she wasn't in the mood for talking. "Who are you?"

"Herman Jones, Commissioner of the Tennessee State Police," he replied with a certain aloofness, as if he was proud of his position. "I trust you have apprehended the prime suspect in the Katagiri case, one Alan Tyler?" he continued, peering at her searchingly.

Hutchinson diverted his gaze away from the scene. He still wasn't entirely sure why he was covering up for Tyler, or what this 'Katagiri' case was supposed to be. Then again, if he wasn't asked about it, he figured he wouldn't have to say anything. Carla, meanwhile, looked blank for a moment.

"Detective?" Jones said, clearly losing his temper. "Well?! Have you or have you not apprehended him?!"

Carla just shook her head.

"I haven't," she said, hanging her head slightly. "I lost track of him in Knoxville. I passed out... I don't know where he might be now."

Jones made a snarling noise, sharply gazing all around him, as if he expected Tyler to be hidden in one of the beds. He looked back at Carla, his face turning the approximate colour of a beetroot, his cold grey eyes narrowed.

"Irons spoke highly of you, Detective," he said, a nasty tone in his voice. "Looks like his faith was misplaced."

At this, Hutchinson started. He felt the commissioner was being somewhat unfair, considering the circumstances. He stood up and marched over to Carla's bed, looking at Jones dead in the eye.

"Leave her alone, for pity's sake!" he said, harshly. "She's been through a lot! I dunno if you've looked around lately, but getting caught in a monster battlefield is not something you easily recover from, believe you-me!"

Jones threw a very nasty look at Hutchinson. It was clear he didn't like frank discussion about his flaws, or being told that he had picked a very bad time to pursue this matter.

"I'm not blind to what's happened here, soldier!" he said, his anger seemingly rising further still. "However, this woman has wasted valuable police time and resources. In the time it's taken her to get out here and to lose the suspect, we could have arrested him and cleared this case! Now do you see why I'm so angry at her, soldier?!"

Hutchinson didn't reply, but the look he gave Jones said enough; he didn't like the man at all. Jones just snarled and rounded on Carla again, who looked like she had completely lost all interest in what was happening.

"Mark my words, Detective," Jones hissed. "Irons will hear about how much time and resources you have wasted. You have not heard the last of this."

With that, he spun on his heel and marched away from Carla. The detective just shook her head in disbelief. This was well and truly it. This was such a colossal blunder that she could not see how she could save face from it all. Never had she felt so utterly miserable; she had let down her Chief, and she had let down her department.

"What a tosser," Hutchinson muttered. He then turned back to Carla and tried to brighten his expression a little.

"He's right, though," Carla said, her voice seemingly dead of emotion. "I won't be able to save face after this mess-up. I'd always prided myself on catching the bad guys, but I let this one get away."

"Look," Hutchinson said, sitting down next to her, "what do they want with Tyler anyway? What's he supposed to have done?"

Carla sighed. This case had started out so simple; Tyler was the best possible lead they had into the enquiry of the possible murder of a Japanese government official. After everything that she had witnessed over the last couple of days, now she wasn't so sure what was going on or who to believe. She had never got any answers from Tyler anyway, not only because he spent so long as a mute, but also because she had passed out and let him slip through the net.

"I honestly don't know anymore," she said simply. "I'll probably never know now. Besides, what's the difference? After everything I've seen lately, it doesn't seem to matter anymore."

Hutchinson just shrugged. "Well," he said, "shit happens. We've just gotta press on. It's all we can do; go on living. It's gotta be better than the alternative, no matter how crappy it gets sometimes."

With that, Hutchinson rose from the bed and strode over to another soldier. As they engaged in conversation, Carla thought about what to do next. She supposed she would have to endure the consequences of her actions, whatever they were. Right now, there didn't seem to be anything else to do.

As soon as she was given the all-clear, she decided to just head straight back to Utah, no matter how long a drive it was. It was clear the Tennessee boys didn't want her here anymore. She didn't care if they found Tyler or not; that part of her life was over.

***

Alan and Shinoda wasted no time in making their way back to Utah. Sure that the police would still be searching for them, they decided to keep to the back roads and country routes to avoid as many patrols as possible. They had briefly contacted Kiryuu not long after passing the ruins of Nashville, just to let him know that they were both fine and that they were on their way back to Utah. They had been unable to find Manda after the incident and had no means of contacting him, though Alan was counting on the idea that the dragon would find them sooner or later. In the days that followed, they never switched the car radio off, and tuned into the TV news whenever they stopped at a motel. They wanted to catch every single piece of news that they could regarding the incident in Knoxville. As far as that went, the last piece of news was that King Ghidorah's remains had been taken to an undisclosed location by the Utah Foundation. Alan scoffed at this, wondering if they were going to try and make a Mecha King Ghidorah and start a collection of robot monsters.

As far as the photos of King Ghidorah's death went, photos of the incident had gotten onto the Network, taken by other G-Chasers who were much further away and with lower-quality camerawork, but still enough to make out the grim details of the dragon's death. The site was now a hive of speculation these days. Alan had only offered vague theories, trying to bring up possibilities other than a weapon of some kind. A lot of people in the site didn't buy into his theories. Some even disregarded Alan's statement that his camera had been destroyed and flat-out accused Alan of being part of some kind of conspiracy, especially since he had been so proficient in taking photos before. Ironically enough, Alan thought, they weren't far from the truth.

Outside of the Network, the news that was clogging the airwaves now focused on Kiryuu himself. Apparently someone had leaked information of Kiryuu's sentiency to the world, and as Alan had predicted after his first meeting with the mecha, the public's reaction was not too favourable. He had seen and heard news reports of rioting outside the Utah Foundation's offices, and Kiryuu himself had essentially told those rioters to piss off (though not in those exact words, of course). Of course, the Network had exploded with debate, more so than usual, now that Kiryuu's sentiency had been revealed. Alan hadn't told anyone that he knew Kiryuu well before any of this happened; in fact, he didn't get involved in such discussions at all, much to the chagrin of several members.

Speculation was rife about who would take over the Utah Foundation. Its former owner, Gordon Knight, had died during the battle of Knoxville. Alan had never met the man, and slightly regretted that he'd never had a chance to do so. He had a few well-chosen words for him, had he ever got the chance. Gradually, despite Kiryuu's near-constant saying of 'no comment', news had leaked. In his will, Gordon had left the Foundation and all of his estates to Kiryuu. However, to prove his sentiency, earn his citizenship and make the claim legal, Kiryuu had to pass the Turing Test.

Alan and Shinoda kept up with the news as best they could. Not long after Gordon Knight's funeral, as Alan and Shinoda were preparing to cross one last state border into Utah, the results of the Turing Test were in. As Alan had expected, Kiryuu's sentiency was proven. As he had also expected, the religious types had begun bickering over it. Kiryuu's sentiency was very much a point of contention, even on the day he was due to pick up his citizenship documents. The President of the United States, of course, seemed to have wasted no time in turning Kiryuu's rise to citizenship as a PR stunt, as Kiryuu's hologram was to appear in Washington, in front of a much larger audience than he was probably used to.

At their motel, just a few miles from the Colorado/Utah state border, Alan and Shinoda were awaiting the broadcast of the 'momentous' occasion. Alan could tell that Shinoda seemed more excited about this than Alan himself was. He was probably thinking of writing papers on the subject of artificial intelligence and the nature of what humans would call 'life'. That sort of thing didn't get Alan excited, especially not considering everything he had just been through. As the TV news played, going over everything that they had covered about the story of Kiryuu's sentience so far, there was a knock on the motel door.

At once, Alan and Shinoda looked at the door, looks of fear on their faces. Both could not help thinking that the police were still after them, even though nothing about them had been mentioned in the news. Alan had thought this odd, but had tried not to think about it lest he jinx their stroke of good fortune. In the end, as another knock on the door could be heard, Alan moved to the door, his gun clutched tightly in his hand, and opened it. There was a pause for a moment as Alan faced the unexpected visitor, gun raised.

"Is this how you greet all of your guests, Alan?" a familiar voice said in a light tone. Alan breathed a sigh of relief, lowering his gun and stepping inside to let Timothy Marx inside. He appeared much like his usual self, with the same scruffy blonde hair and Hawaiian shirt. Shinoda looked positively alarmed at his appearance; he had not forgotten what Marx really was.

"For all you know, Manda," Alan replied, smirking, "I might have had some ladies in here."

Manda just rolled his eyes in an 'I can't believe he said that' manner, before shaking Shinoda's hand.

"Actually, it's a good think you're here," Alan continued, putting his gun away. "I take it you're here about the 'strange energies' below Knoxville?"

"You catch on quick," Manda replied, smirking. Once again, he projected everything he was thinking into Shinoda's mind so the scientist could understand him. "I'm surprised you didn't come to Miami to tell me. You look like you could use a tan."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alan replied. "In any case, we figured we'd better get back to Io as soon as possible. I don't doubt that she's still worried about us."

"As far as I know," Manda replied. "Kiryuu passed on your message. She knows you're on your way." He turned to Shinoda with a smile. "This will be quite a bedtime story to tell her, Dr. Shinoda."

"I..." Shinoda stammered. "I wasn't thinking of... well..."

"You were hoping to put it behind you," Manda said, finished Shinoda's sentence. "Something tells me I should not be surprised." He turned back to Alan, sitting down on the bed. "So how about it, Alan? Did you do what I asked?"

"Oh yes indeed," Alan replied, looking grim. "I certainly did."

"What did you find?" Manda asked. "Don't leave any details out."

Alan sat himself down in a chair, and told Manda everything that had happened to him. He told of how they'd followed King Ghidorah into Knoxville, about the tunnel leading into the catacombs, about the giant ballista that they had found, and the Liche. When Alan described the weapon, Manda's face became very grave.

"This weapon..." the dragon said, glaring forcefully at Alan. "Did you catch it's name?"

"What was it she said..." Alan muttered, looking away for a moment. "She told me the Liche had said something about a 'Meson Collider'. I think that might be it."

"The Meson Collider..." Manda muttered. Then he turned away, looking furious. "Malcho, I'm gonna kill you next time I see you!"

"What?" Alan asked.

"The Meson Collider," Manda explained, "was the very weapon that caused the fall of Atlantis. It's hard to describe how it works without going into a lot of detail about Technomancy, but the effects are like a sort-of 'clean nuke'. The weapon was sabotaged when we tried to use it... Well, to cut a long story short, it's the reason Atlantis is gone. I wish the sodding thing had never been built.

"Anyway, I'm guessing that Malcho found the weapon and moved it under Knoxville at some point, like how he moved the Tower of Babel underneath Oak Ridge. He probably planned to use it against King Ghidorah when he returned, but the Liche clearly got there first. If I had to guess, King Ghidorah must have told him to activate it as his back-up plan, should anything go wrong against Kiryuu. I can tell you now, if the Collider had been fired, Kiryuu would not have survived. He, and half of Knoxville at least, would have been vapourised."

"Well, we don't have to worry about that anymore," Alan said. "The weapon was destroyed. Carla did something to it that caused it to explode."

"It sounds like she removed the crystals that stabilise the energy transfer," Manda replied. "Expect a hefty bill from Malcho when he finds out what happened."

The look on Alan's face was priceless to Manda, as the human looked like he had just walked in on some unspeakable act. Manda could not help chuckling at this.

"In all seriousness," Manda continued, smiling, "you both did a good job."

"Thanks," Alan said quietly. He appreciated the compliment, knowing that he had done _some_ measure of good after all. He also took a grim kind of satisfaction knowing that, for all Kiryuu had not wanted Alan involved, Alan had done more for him than he would probably ever know.

"Listen," Manda then said, bringing Alan back to his senses. "Did you learn who the Liche was?"

"Actually," Alan muttered, suddenly remembering something from the tunnel. "I did see a name tag on the body. It was a 'Gilbert', or something like that."

"Does the name ring a bell?" Manda asked.

"What's that supposed to..." Alan was retorting, but tailed off. As a matter of fact, he _had_ heard the name before, and had only just remembered where he had.

"In the file about Dr. O'Brien and Dr. Jenkins..." he muttered. "William Gilbert..."

"Exactly," Manda nodded. "Will Gilbert was one of the research assistants to Dr. Jenkins. He must have taken the M-Zero cells himself after her death and tried to continue her research. And there was me hoping those infernal things had been destroyed..." He sighed a deep sigh. Clearly this whole ordeal had worn him out considerably.

"There's just one thing I don't understand," Shinoda then said. "What about the ghosts we saw in the graveyard?"

"Ghosts?" Manda asked, now looking puzzled. It seemed Shinoda's question had had the effect Alan hoped for; he was focused on something other than what they had all just experienced.

"We saw what looked like ghosts while we were there," Alan explained. "They weren't dangerous or anything, but what could have caused them?"

Manda looked thoughtful for a moment.

"It is true that sometimes the spirits of the departed are unable to move on for whatever reason," he said. "Most of the time, mortals can't see them. King Ghidorah's actions must have bombarded them with Mana energy, letting them take the form of some kind of roaming vapour, visible to all. I don't doubt King Ghidorah would have taken them for himself had he been given the chance."

"Speaking of which..." Alan muttered, a flash of fury glancing across his face for a second.

"Hold on a second," Manda quickly cut in. "I didn't know Kiryuu would use the Oxygen Destroyer. As far as that goes, you'll have to take it up with him! I didn't know the effect King Ghidorah's death would have either."

"I was about to ask about that," Alan said, his arms folded. "I heard King Ghidorah's last words too. What did he mean by that whole 'world my death will create' stuff?! What's going to happen now?!"

Indeed, Alan sounded scared, and Manda knew he could not blame him. He sighed deeply as he thought about what was to come, and knew that Alan had a right to know. He had no idea how long Godzilla's cells would keep Alan alive, but already he was fearing the possible effects.

"Listen, Alan," Manda began. "This world is going to change in ways beyond your imagination. If you thought that what happened in Knoxville was bad, you ain't seen nothing yet." He was about to continue speaking when his mobile suddenly gave a loud beeping sound.

"Excuse me," Manda said before pulling out his phone. He read the screen for a moment, before turning back to Alan.

"I'm really sorry, Alan," Manda said apologetically, "but I've got to get back. I promised Jo I'd help her with a case we've just been assigned to. I'm probably late already. I've told Kiryuu what sort of changes to expect; he can fill you in when you see him." He paused for a moment, then quickly spoke again as Alan was about to speak again, looking indignant.

"Give me your phone," Manda said.

"What?" Alan asked, confused.

"I told you this world's going to change," Manda said. "I can help you deal with those changes when they really hit, but I can't be here to hold your hand all the time. This way you can call me should you need it and I'll be there as soon as I can. I give it to you on the condition that you only call when you _absolutely_ need my help. This isn't a license to waste my time."

Alan nodded, and handed his phone over. Manda keyed his number in to Alan's address book before returning it to him. He then stood up and walked to the door.

"Well," he said. "I'd better make tracks. Jo's going to flay my hide if I don't show tonight; things have been rough down south lately, and I don't think even she will want to be walking the streets alone these days."

As he was about to leave, Alan stepped after him.

"Wait a second!" he said. Manda turned to him, looking impatient.

"It's all going to be alright, isn't it?" Alan asked, looking uncertain. "We're all going to make it okay, aren't we?"

Manda just sighed. He gave Alan a piercing look, giving the human the impression he was having his mind read.

"There are things in this universe," he said, "that no matter how old you are, you can never truly understand them. The only thing I can say for sure is only time will tell."

With one last nod to Alan and Shinoda, Manda left. As Alan closed the door, he muttered under his breath. He had hoped for more reassurance than that, but he was still uncertain about a lot of things. Shinoda had been listening to the whole conversation; he was not sure if he would live to see the supposed changes the world was going to go through, but he was worried for Io's future and how she might be affected. The only thing that seemed a certainty to them was that they had to talk to Kiryuu; with any luck, he would have more time to tell them these things.

Speaking of which, Shinoda indicated for Alan to come over, as Kiryuu's citizenship was about to be made official on national television. They watched as Kiryuu, dressed in a tuxedo (which Alan thought looked very odd on the mecha) shook hands with the President. They listened as he was told to give a speech to the news crews assembled:

"_I didn't plan to speak,"_ he began. _"I do appreciate what the President has done. If it weren't for some of the funding from the United States I wouldn't be speaking to you now. I know that a few of you see me as some sort of terror, some sort of sentient AI that's out to take over the world. Your assumptions are as irrational as they are ludicrous. Why would I want to take over the planet, or commit mass genocide because you're all made of flesh and I'm only partially flesh? Why would I do that? What would I do with an empty planet when I'm done? You put these things into your mind because you pay attention to Hollywood movies too much. You think that I'm going to build a virtual would and harness your body heat for fuel, or hack into your toaster and make it bite you so I could enslave you."_

The sounds of laughter could be heard at this point. Alan sighed. He could see Kiryuu becoming a politician someday; he had already got the pithy jokes nailed.

"_Those were fictional AI,"_ Kiryuu continued. _"I'm real. I'm a real person. Granted, I'm inside of a 200-foot tall cybernetic dinosaur, but I'm a real person. I own the Utah Foundation now. And I will continue on what Gordon Knight set out. I will help the sick get well. However, I won't be doing it with G-Cells, I know what some of you are going to ask. Though, I will be honest with you. I did not want to kill Godzilla. The reason why was that I feared that if I did kill him, my life would end. There would be no use for me. I feared my own death. That was my rebellion and I'm sorry. So to make it up, I will do what I was originally design to do. I will finish my job. I will kill Godzilla."_

At this announcement, Shinoda audibly gasped, covering his mouth with his hands. Alan sprang up, almost as if he was about to suddenly smash the TV. He was looking at the screen intently, though he was not really listening to what was being said. All that mattered to him right now were the words "_I will kill Godzilla_".

"Kill Gojira..." Shinoda said, sounding like he was about to faint. "Kill his own son... He wouldn't..." He looked from the TV screen to Alan. "Surely he wouldn't do it? He just wouldn't kill his own son..."

Alan seemed to calm down at those words, and sat himself back down on the end of his bed.

"I don't believe him," Alan said, matter-of-factly. He was convinced that what he was about to say had elements of truth to it. "Kiryuu's told a lot of porkies in his time."

"'Porkies'?" Shinoda asked. He wasn't familiar with that particular bit of slang Alan used.

"Pork pies," Alan explained. "Rhyming slang for lies. He lied about building a new Oxygen Destroyer, remember? It wouldn't surprise me if he's lying again. I don't believe he will kill Godzilla."

It occurred to Alan that he may not get a chance to speak to Kiryuu now that he had taken over the Utah Foundation, so he decided that it was best to press on to his base of operations as quickly as possible. He had a lot he wanted to discuss with Kiryuu; the Oxygen Destroyer, his own mutations, what was going to happen to this world in the future, and most importantly, if there was a way King Ghidorah could come back. He was not going to be able to do that when Kiryuu was in the middle of a board meeting.

"Let's go," he said to Shinoda, grabbing his things, "It's still pretty early. Let's see how far we get before nightfall. We're only a day or two away, maybe even less than that if we don't run into trouble."

Shinoda nodded. He wanted to see Io as soon as possible, having missed her terribly. He was sure Io was equally worried, and went to grab his own things. As they paid their bill and pulled out of the car park, Alan wondered what he was going to do to Kiryuu when they met again; he wasn't sure how he was supposed to react to this supposed blood-relative of his who had just sent the world down the proverbial toilet.


	11. The Reunion Gig

**The Reunion Gig**

It had taken a whole day's driving after crossing the border into Utah, but they had finally made it. Turning off from the main road, they followed the small side road to a three-storey office building, out in the middle of the dust-strewn desert. It did not take long for them to find a parking space outside the building, for not many people came around here. That suited the owner of the property just fine, and his newest visitors knew it.

Alan and Shinoda climbed out of their car once they had parked themselves outside the building. Alan stood for a moment, leaning against the car, looking up at the building. He remembered his last visit to this place, which had not gone well at all, and he hoped he would not have to endure a repeat of that occasion.

"Like I said," he said, speaking to Shinoda but not looking at him, "don't expect much, not at first anyway. You have to go pretty far into the place before things get interesting."

He stood looking at the building for another second or two, before noticing that Shinoda hadn't given some kind of acknowledgement that he'd heard him. Turning around, he noticed Shinoda seemed a lot more interested in his phone, as he was thumbing the keypad with a furrowed brow.

"Shinoda?" Alan called, wondering what he could have found more interesting than meeting the subject of much of their discussions up to this point.

"Hm?" Shinoda said, looking back up at Alan for a moment. "Oh, sorry Alan. It's just Yuki again. She hasn't stopped texting me since King Ghidorah's attack. She now says she's coming to Salt Lake City at the earliest opportunity." He looked slightly uncomfortable as he finally put away his phone. "It's making me feel a bit embarrassed, to be honest."

"So she's concerned about you," Alan said, shrugging. "What's there to be embarrassed about? You like her, don't you?"

"Well, yes..." Shinoda said, his cheeks turning slightly red. "I do, it's just..."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Alan said in mock incredulity. "I think it's about time you took the plunge with her. You like her, Io likes her, and I'm pretty damn sure she likes you both. I think it's time you just 'grabbed the bull by the horns', so to speak."

Shinoda sighed. "Maybe..." he said quietly. "Once we're all finished here." He looked up at the building, and so far he did not look impressed with what he was seeing. The office building looked just like any other. "You were right," he added. "There's not much to see on the outside."

"It gets a lot better inside," Alan said, beckoning Shinoda over to the front door. "Trust me."

"I hope you have not left too many big surprises," Shinoda said warily. "I still cannot believe you did not say anything about Manda."

"Your expression was priceless," Alan said, smirking. "Where's the fun in finding out everything too soon? You should know better than anyone in the value of a little mystery from time to time."

Shinoda just sighed. He wondered if Alan was going to start making a hobby out of shocking him. He followed Alan through the front door of the building, stepping into the reception area. It was very plain, with only a couple of potted ferns providing any real form of decoration. It was obvious the Utah Foundation did not expect many visitors to this place. Shinoda continued to have a slightly disappointed look on his face. Noticing his expression, Alan just gave a quick wink before turning towards the receptionist's desk. The receptionist herself – one Darla – was now looking at Alan with a slightly alarmed expression. It seemed she recognised him from their last meeting, and her expression seemed to be saying "oh no, not again!" to Alan.

"Excuse me, love," Alan addressed her, leaning on the desk. "We're here to speak to Mr. K. Knight. Is he around today?"

Darla sighed for a moment as she picked up a phone: "Mr. Knight, that British guy has come back. The one with the strange eyes that look like yours. Yeah, he's brought a friend as well. What do you want me to do with him?"

She waited for a moment for a response and then nodded.

"Alright, sir," she replied. "I'll send him on through." She hung up the phone and stared back at Alan and Shinoda. "Mr. Knight will see you now. You may pass through that hallway. Don't worry about the security guards. They've been phoned. Mr. Knight is busy though—very busy—getting repairs to his arm, but he'll see you. It's just down that hallway." She pointed down to a long hallway lined with a few security guards.

"Thank you," Alan nodded. He turned to his companion and led him down the hallway where Darla pointed. The guards clicked their heels as Alan and Shinoda passed them, going into the elevator. As they headed down they saw in the side window of the elevator the massive body of Kiryuu Knight being repaired in the bay area.

Darla had not been joking, for Kiryuu looked a mess. His right arm that King Ghidorah had smashed was removed for the moment and a new one was being manufactured, though it would be some time before it arrived. For now, Kiryuu had only one arm. Parts of his armor were removed and the black, latex skin was revealed underneath. Some of that skin was also removed and the silvery and blue syntech was showing. What was even more interesting for Shinoda to see was that the syntech was pulled back, revealing the severed bone of the upper arm where Godzilla ripped Kiryuu's right arm off back in Japan those years ago. Even the spines were revealed as well. They could see technicians working on the severed bone, attaching various connectors to start the process of reconnecting another robotic arm to it. Alan couldn't help wincing at the sight; not even Organiser G-1 could replace lost limbs.

As soon as the two of them got to the catwalk, Kiryuu turned his head and dipped it in greeting.

"Mr. Tyler," he began, his deep voice echoing through the bay area above the construction going on around his body. "Welcome back."

Alan nodded in reply. "Y'alright?" he asked, out of politeness more than anything. He leaned slightly to get a better look at the exposed bone where Kiryuu's right arm should be. "Though that was probably the wrong question to ask," he continued.

"I have experienced more horrific injuries than this," Kiryuu rumbled, peering down at his shoulder for the moment. "I am sure you know what I mean."

He looked back at Shinoda, who was gazing around at the cavernous bay with wide eyes. As he gazed at Kiryuu and the space he was contained in, he kept muttering "This is amazing!" under his breath. Unlike Alan, who had visited this place once and had seen it all before, Shinoda was clearly having the time of his life in Kiryuu's 'home'. Alan kept thinking Shinoda was acting like how a child does on Christmas morning, full of excitement and wonder and happy to be getting big new toys. He turned back to Kiryuu, shaking his head, an expression of mock exasperation on his face.

"I can't take him anywhere," he said in a low voice. If Shinoda had heard him, he was pretending he hadn't. Kiryuu chuckled and shook his head as well.

"I take it, Dr. Shinoda, you are most thrilled to see me?" he asked with a pleasant grin on his face.

"Oh, but I am," Shinoda called. "You're... well, you're Gojira. How could I not be?"

"I must apologize for my forwardness when I first emailed you," Kiryuu began. "I did not mean by my harsh words. I did not mean to question your studies of Godzilla. It was too terribly arrogant of me."

He winced slightly as a sharp pain shot up his arm. He glanced down as the technician below began to apply the clamps to the bone, coming close to one of his sensors in the arm itself. Kiryuu sighed for a moment and his attention returned back to his guests. He signalled for them to come closer to him. They walked up onto a higher catwalk closer to his head. Kiryuu brushed back his green mane and his face became serious.

"No doubt you have seen the broadcast," Kiryuu said. "About what I said about my son. Have no fear, he will be safe. I have no intentions of killing him." Alan simply nodded, not overly surprised by that piece of information. He knew Kiryuu wouldn't kill his own son, this just confirmed it.

"So what will happen to him?" Alan asked. "You wouldn't have said something if you didn't have some kind of plan. How do you propose on hiding your son away from the world?" There was a note of concern in his voice which Kiryuu noticed.

"I promise you he will come to no harm," Kiryuu began, "I intend to put him into cryogenic sleep with a low frequency blast from my AZC. Then, I'll send him to Antarctica to keep him frozen. I have a base there which will keep an eye on him. This world is about to change for the worse, and I don't want my son to be harmed by it. The energies that King Ghidorah has unleashed could change him, forever. So, I want to save him from it."

"I see," Alan said, in a sombre tone. "When you go to freeze him, please take me with you. I don't even need to be near him; I just want to be there to say goodbye."

Kiryuu nodded. "I shall make arrangements for Chester MacAnderson to fly you to Ogasawara Island. He will keep you at a safe distance, and you can watch and say your goodbyes from there." He tried to smile, but the stinging sensation caused by the work on his arm meant the smile looked more like a pained grimace. Alan just nodded appreciatively.

"So what's going to happen from here on out?" he asked. "I ran into Manda yesterday, but he didn't get to tell me the whole story, so just how bad is all of this going to be?"

Kiryuu shifted slightly, laid a claw on his severed arm and took in a deep breath.

"Apparently," Kiryuu began, "these events will happen when the energy King Ghidorah has spread across the world rises to a certain level. They'll be isolated, and will happen over the course of decades, maybe even centuries. And from what I could gather, the energy will stick around until it calls King Ghidorah's remnants called Horrors and they'll come down and feed off of the energy, which will lower it and return the world to the way it was before the energy rose. Unfortunately, after they had their fill... they'll create another King Ghidorah. What's worse is that these Horrors are the souls that King Ghidorah has fed on. Gordon Knight, the people Monster Zero has killed, my mate and children, even your parents... All will become servants to that monster!" He lowered his head down, shutting his eyes painfully.

"I... I thought I could kill him. I thought I could avenge my family's death, and the deaths of everyone else... I thought I could save this world from him. I didn't want to let anyone down. So many were counting on me. However, even after all of our plans and preparation, and in spite of all of his immediate plans being destroyed, he still had one last means of escape. He'll come back; it may take a few thousand years, but he'll come back." Kiryuu's eyes opened up again and his pupils contracted into slits. A vicious sneer appeared on his face.

"Thing is," he continued, "I intend to stick around when he does. I'll find a way to make sure that three-headed monstrosity never returns. Even if it takes me centuries, I'll find a way. There's always a way to do it."

Alan nodded. "You know the saying," he said, "'Where there's a will, there's a way'. If he can be got rid of permanently, I'd sure as hell like to know it too."

Alan had tried to sound confident in that statement, but a few seconds later the misgivings in the back of his mind came to the fore. He looked away from Kiryuu again, rubbing his now-deformed neck. Since the mutation, a series of hard ridges could now be seen on it, ridges which felt as hard as crocodile scales. He remembered vividly what had happened to him in Knoxville, as the mutations had started, and that had forced him to re-evaluate things. Kiryuu's own eyes narrowed when he saw the spots on Alan's neck; he knew that such a change was only a sign of hard times ahead for the mutant.

"Mind you..." he said, his tone much quieter and more humble. "If I'm still around then, I don't know what sort of state I'll be in." He sighed, only the sigh came out as an animalistic rumble. "Katagiri was right..." he continued, sounding very bitter. "It's only a matter of time." He then looked across at Shinoda, seemingly looking for help. Shinoda simply motioned his hands towards him, egging him on.

"Go on, Alan," he said, in a quiet, almost fatherly tone. "It will only tear you up if you don't talk about it now." The scientist looked up at Kiryuu.

"If-if you don't mind, um..." Shinoda paused for a moment, "Mr. Knight... I don't think this is something I should be listening to. Is there anywhere I can wait so you can have privacy?"

"Of course," Kiryuu nodded. "Down that hallway, you will find a waiting room. Just go down there and wait. I'll call you when we are done."

"Thank you," Shinoda smiled and nodded to Alan. Then, he walked silently down the hall.

Alan sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking back at Kiryuu.

"What's going to happen to me then?" he asked. "What sort of state will I be in by the time the shit's happened and that monster comes back?"

"Alan," Kiryuu began, taking a deep breath and running his one claw through his green locks. "I honestly don't know. I don't even know what state I'll be in when he returns. I cannot predict what this Mana energy will do to me. It might... It might bring the Gojira out in me and drive me completely mad to where I won't even be able to even think rationally anymore. It might do the same to you.

"I wish I knew what will happen. Things aren't simply explained anymore, as much as I wish they were. What Katagiri did to you, your comrades and all of those innocent people angers me to no end. I'm fine with the changes that science and the fear of Godzilla have brought onto me, but I wonder if you feel the same. It's not easy, thinking you were one thing and finding out that you're another. As I said to you when we last spoke, a part of me still thinks I am nothing more than a highly advanced computer inside the shell of the dead remains of Gojira. I suspect you too will always have a small identity crisis, a part of you unable to say for certain whether you're Alan Tyler or Godzilla. How you deal with that uncertainty is a choice that I leave to you."

Kiryuu looked away again, seeing all his technicians bustling about to repair him. His face was distressed, as if the weight of the world was just thrown onto his shoulders.

"I think this entire world will be confused as to what will happen now," he continued. "One thing I know for certain is that it can never go back. The Appalachians will always stay as they are now. The volcanoes have quietened down, but they'll still be there. Though things seem calm now, they're about to get worse for that little state called Tennessee, and for the rest of the region those mountains encircle. I have been told that those mountains will alter the climate around there, creating draughts and over time even deserts just like here in the West; mere patches, to be sure, but deserts nonetheless. Those mountains will alter the jet stream in that area. Those sorts of events will sow confusion, and that's dangerous in these times. Everything's so fragile now." Kiryuu's head lowered and his eyes closed. He knew Alan had been bursting to berate him about one fact in-particular, and now he had to address it.

"I'm sorry, Alan. I'm sorry that I lied. I'm sorry that I said that I would not use Serizawa's weapon and I did. I just had no choice in the matter. But like those times when I was the monster attacking the city, nothing could kill me. Men had tried. And so, Serizawa allowed the usage of his weapon because nothing else could stop me. I felt the same way about King Ghidorah; nothing could stop him either. He was just too powerful. No weapon I possess, even my breath, had any effect. He just shrugged it off like a dried-up leaf. And he played with me like a cat with a mouse. If it weren't for Ericka sacrificing herself to save me, I would have been his patsy. Of course, none of that matters now; he'll come back, just like I did." He sighed again and leaned against the body arms that supported his body.

"There is something else you should know," he continued. "Biollante is gone for good. I finally learned what her purpose was in the fight against the hydra. Just as Manda saw would happen, I ended up becoming controlled by King Ghidorah. All I could do was watch, unable to stop myself from hurting my son. However, she stepped in and drove King Ghidorah from my mind, at the cost of her own life. With her last breath, she gave me her powers... and her memories. I understand now what she did to you, but neither of us will be troubled by her again. She was a horrible monster, but if it wasn't for her I wouldn't have won. I owe her a lot."

"How ironic," Alan muttered, not really caring what had happened to Biollante. He had not forgotten what the monster had done to him in Nevada, and was not so willing to feel like he owed her anything. Kiryuu simply glanced back down at Alan with a weak smile.

"Alan," he said, "everything that happened before I defeated King Ghidorah was fine. A little bumpy, but fine. We all lived our lives. We all worked, we all played, we all did our duties. Now, it's a downhill run from here. This world, you, me, everyone, is going to change for the worse. All that I can suggest we do is live it one day at a time. I know it's a bit depressing. I am sure that if things get worse for me as well, I will feel like hitting the format button in my hard drive; it would be taking the machine's version of arsenic and saying that death would be better. But I have to remind myself about what I want to do; I have to be around when King Ghidorah comes back. I am sure you feel the same too."

He took in a sigh once more and glanced back at Alan, his eyes moist and his slit pupils wide and round.

"So tell me, Alan," Kiryuu said. "What do you intend to do? You are what you are. I wish I could find a way to change you back, but that's not within my power. I can't do everything. What happened to you should never have happened. You know what I intend to do, so tell me; what do you intend to do?"

Alan was silent for a moment, Kiryuu's words drilling into his mind like tiny jackhammers. Now that it looked like he was facing a very uncertain future, he was not sure which path he should take. He was silent for a moment, fearing what was to come, but knowing there was no point in trying to outrun the inevitable.

"It's like you said," he said, nodding. "I just have to take each day as it comes. And you're right; I want to be around to help fight King Ghidorah when he comes back. There won't be any need for G-Chasers in the future, I guess; I'll have to find something else to do with my time until he comes back. I can wait though; after all, I'm British," he said, with a dark chuckle, "I know all about playing 'the long game'."

"I am glad to hear that from you," Kiryuu rumbled. "However, I advise against blinding yourself to the seriousness of your 'condition'. I cannot predict how long Organiser G-1 will keep you alive or when the mutations will complete. I will not lie to you or insult your intelligence about this matter. If the worst comes to the worst, and if you ask it of me, I will be there to help 'ease' the pain you will no doubt experience.

"In the meantime I will do my best to make sure that no-one finds out about your continued existence. Of course, you will have to put in the work as well. Now that my sentience is made public, I will doubtless be going down in the history books, but I want you to ensure that will never happen to you. Out in the public eye, everyone can know everything about you; a fact that can and doubtless will prove to be dangerous." He leaned in closer to Alan, a familiar grin playing across his face.

"I can tell you in the greatest confidence," he continued, "that there is much to be said for going un-noticed by the media, history books, visions and prophecies. Whatever you do, whatever path you take, _no-one is going to see you coming_."

Unknown to Alan, both he and Kiryuu had somehow simultaneously thanked each other in their minds. Kiryuu stood back upright, giving a satisfied smile; it seemed his words had the desired effect of putting a new lease of life into Alan.

"In the short-term," he said, "you will not have to worry about the police again. They have called off their search; they have been led to believe that you were killed trying to leave the country."

"I wonder who gave them that idea?" Alan said wryly, an eyebrow arched. Kiryuu chuckled.

"There is one more loose end that has to be dealt with at the present time," Kiryuu then said. "Once again, it all centres around the late Mitsuo Katagiri."

"Ah, him..." Alan muttered, scornfully. "Well, we don't need to worry about him any more, as you know. The thing is," he continued, shaking his head in disbelief, "he killed himself, as tempted as I was to finish him myself. I even tried to help him as he fell, for my sins, but he wasn't having any of it." At this, Kiryuu gave a low chuckle.

"That shouldn't have been unexpected," he rumbled. "Katagiri had spent so long fighting Godzilla. He had made it his life's work to destroy my son. What began as a desire to protect his countrymen became an obsession, and that obsession drove him to madness, drove him to commit the terrible atrocities you are all too familiar with. Considering his history, I do not believe he would have wished to be indebted to Godzilla himself."

"You said it yourself once, though," Alan responded, still looking confused. "I'm not Godzilla." Kiryuu simply shook his head.

"To a mind as diseased as Katagiri's," he replied, "I doubt he could tell the difference." He winced slightly as the apertures continued their work on his damaged arm. "I understand that the detective in charge of investigating his death was suspended for wasting police time and resources. Apparently she lost her prime suspect in Knoxville," he finished, giving a piercing look at Alan.

"I wondered when this would come up," Alan sighed. "The Utah state police were a lot more persistent than I thought. She saw a lot of things in Knoxville; more than she ought to have done." He looked away, now looking rather ashamed. "It's my fault she got suspended. I owe her an explanation."

Kiryuu leaned back, his free hand scratching his chin. An idea had occurred to him.

"If you go into the control room," the mecha said, "you will find some documents that have just been printed. They are just sitting in the printer. Fetch them, and bring them back up here." Alan did so, working his way along the catwalks into the control room, and then returning with a handful of papers.

"This is..." Alan muttered, his eyes slightly wider, "the Beta Experiment file..."

"That's right," Kiryuu said, a note of triumph in his voice. "You will notice that I have edited it, and now this copy contains no mention of you. I gave you the opportunity to put an end to Katagiri, a job which I must say you performed quite admirably. However, his legacy still remains. The CCI still stands, and I have no doubts that the Japanese government is moving to cover up any evidence of those terrible experiments. In a way, Detective Rigden has also suffered from it, though she remains unaware of this. Now I want you to give her a chance at redemption. I will be gracious enough to let her bring the end of Katagiri's legacy, and exorcise that particular demon of the past. If given the choice, would you deny her such an opportunity to crack the biggest case of her career?"

Before Alan could answer, the door to the control room was suddenly flung open again, and two people walked out onto the catwalk. One of these was Shinoda, grinning broadly, while his right arm was wrapped around a small girl, with black hair tied into pigtails. Alan recognised her as Shinoda's daughter, Io, and the two were thoroughly engaged in conversation, Io gazing up at her father with adoring eyes. She jumped when Shinoda swung his arm rapidly to one side, making a loud 'woosh' noise. Clearly he was vividly describing the events in Knoxville in considerable detail.

As Io glanced down the catwalk and saw Alan, she smiled brightly and ran down the length of the catwalk with her arms outstretched.

"Alan!" she cried out as she ran, and the G-Chaser kneeled down, his own arms outstretched and grinning from ear to ear. Then Io almost knocked the wind out of him as she collided with him, wrapping her arms tightly around Alan. He did the same, looking back at Shinoda, who was standing looking at the pair with a warm smile. Alan closed his eyes, holding Io, hoping never to lose her or her father but knowing he would lose both someday. As this horrible thought crossed his mind, a tear slid out of his eye and down his cheek.

"You did it!" Io was saying happily. "You kept your promise!"

"I always do, Io," Alan said quietly. "I'd never have let anything hurt your dad."

After a few moments of silence, Io stepped back towards her father, and Alan stood up. He looked between both Kiryuu and Shinoda before shaking himself.

"Well," he said, holding up the files, "the sooner I get this done, the better." He started to walk back towards the door, but Shinoda held up a hand.

"Alan," he said, "I'd like to stay a while longer, if you don't mind. I have a few ideas that I want to share with Kiryuu before we go back home. You don't mind, do you? You can come back and pick me up when you've done... well, whatever it is you need to do."

Alan's eyebrows arched up, but he nodded, beginning to walk past him towards the elevator.

"Alan-" Kiryuu began, but Alan spun around and interrupted him.

"Don't worry," he said. "That offer you made about 'easing the pain' if the worst happens goes both ways. If and when this cataclysm causes you to go snooker-loopy and become the biggest bad of them all, I will absolutely kill you, no problem."

Shinoda and Io looked at Alan, open-mouthed. Alan turned to leave again, but Kiryuu spoke up again.

"I was going to say," he said, "that Manda told me about what you did in Knoxville, and I wanted to thank you for saving my life. What were you talking about just then?"

Alan paused for a moment, feeling that he had embarrassed himself. He was about to repeat what he had said, but decided against it.

"Nothing," he muttered. "You're welcome. Cheers, mate."

With that, he walked back to the elevator. Shinoda and Io were lost for words, but Kiryuu grinned. He knew full well what Alan had said, and he also seriously doubted that Alan would be able to make good on that promise, if the time ever came. Still, he appreciated the sentiment.

As Alan rode the elevator back up to the ground level, he saw Shinoda and Kiryuu deep in conversation. As he walked back out into the sun-baked car park, Alan really didn't know what to make of Kiryuu. On the one hand, his encounter with King Ghidorah and the knowledge of what was to come had visibly shaken him as it had Alan himself. On the other hand he had a nagging doubt that Kiryuu knew the full extent of the horrors to come and was leaving something out. Plus he really didn't like the idea of Kiryuu being able to look in his mind. It was one thing to hack into a computer, but to look into someone else's mind was a frightening thought. He had had enough of such things to last a lifetime.

_Hell and damnation,_ he thought to himself, as he climbed into the car and started the engine. Beside him lay the files, and although Alan wasn't sure he agreed with Kiryuu's idea, he couldn't think of what else to do. At least it was something to take his mind off what Kiryuu had said.

***

Carla Rigden was now feeling like the unluckiest person in the world. Upon returning home to Utah, Chief Masters had given her a complete verbal flaying. Among other choice phrases, she had been told that she had made "a hell of a mess", and turned the Utah police forces into a laughing stock. She had tried to defend herself, had tried to point out that there was more to this case than was initially thought, but the fact of the matter remained that she was unable to catch a wanted man. She was now suspended without pay pending an official inquiry.

Now she was back in her apartment, once again training with the large punching bag in her room. With particular viciousness she remembered the incidents that had brought her to this unenviable position. Everything had gone wrong from the moment she had taken on that Katagiri case, and ever since Alan Tyler had walked into her life. She could picture both of their faces on the punching bag as she landed her jabs and straights.

After several minutes of this, she leaned against the bag, panting and sweating. She had never felt so miserable in her whole life, and she had the horrible feeling that after the inquiry things would get a lot worse.

"God damn you..." she cursed angrily. "God damn you to Hell..."

"You wouldn't be talking about me, would you?" a male voice suddenly said from behind her. She spun round, and then saw that Alan was now standing in the doorway to her bedroom, a file in one hand, regarding Carla with those cat-like eyes of his. At first, Carla was shocked that he had managed to get inside without her hearing, though she remembered there was a drainpipe quite close to her bedroom window; her training seemed to have made her completely lost in thought. Her shock turned to anger and her eyes narrowed. She knew her own gun was locked away in a box under her bed, and she cursed herself for not having it now, though she doubted it would have any effect on him after what she had witnessed.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing your face around here again, you freak!" she spat. "Now you've got five seconds to get outta here before I call the cops!" She was about to stride over to her phone, but she heard a sudden click and froze. Turning to face Alan, she saw that he had his Desert Eagle raised, pointing it at her head, and had clicked the hammer into place.

"Before you do that," Alan said calmly, "you might want to take a look at this." He waved the file in his other hand, and held it out in front of him, apparently wanting Carla to take it. The detective approached cautiously, her eyes never leaving Alan's as she outstretched an arm to the files. Then she reached out and snatched the file away, finally taking her eyes off Alan to look at the cover.

"'Organiser G-1... Beta experiment?" she breathed. She opened the file and began to read a small section. As she read, her anger gave way to curiosity, and her curiosity became horror as she read further, reading about the injection of Organiser G-1 into the bloodstream, and the terrible effects the experiments had on the many unfortunate victims.

"Jesus..." she muttered. "And Katagiri's name is all over this..."

"You wanted answers, Detective," Alan said. "I owed you them. You need to know what sort of man Mitsuo Katagiri was; he was the sort who would gladly tread on others and commit atrocities like that to further his own aims. He was a lunatic, and that's why he died in that factory. I assume you already knew about that?"

"So you did see him die?" Carla asked, her head snapping back up to look at Alan. "But your name isn't anywhere in this file. Why would you be-"

"Use the brains you were born with, Detective," Alan interrupted. "Why do you think I can heal so quickly, can roar like Godzilla, and have these eyes?" he continued, pointing at his own eyes. "What do you think people are going to do when they find out about me? I'll be carted off to some lab somewhere and poked at for all eternity. If you have any sense you'll forget my face and my name when this little meeting is over."

At last, Carla was beginning to see the reasons why Alan had acted the way he had in Knoxville. She could now see why Alan would do such things, what sort of person Katagiri was... and the reason Katagiri had died. As much as she had wanted to forget the bizarre incidents in Tennessee, they were now coming back to her memory.

"Tell me honestly, Tyler..." Carla finally said, looking Alan directly in the eye. "Did you kill Katagiri? He hurt you, so did you hurt him back?"

"No," Alan responded. "I can't tell you how much I wanted to, but I didn't."

Carla regarded Alan carefully, almost as if she was trying to read his mind. In the end, she seemed satisfied that Alan was being truthful and relaxed a little, looking back to the file.

"Why are you giving this to me though?" Carla asked.

"I'm giving you a chance to redeem yourself, Detective," Alan replied, holstering his firearm, "in the eyes of your colleagues and peers. Bring that information before the United Nations, and expose the activities of the Japanese government and the Crisis Control Intelligence agency. How do you think people will react to you cracking such a high-profile case? You could be Commissioner within the year; at the very least you should get your badge back. The benefits are greater than that though; you'll be exposing an enormous crime against human life and bringing down those responsible. Katagiri has been put to an end, and now I leave it to you to finish off his legacy once and for all. No-one deserves to suffer the way my friends did. I leave it all up to you to make sure it never happens again."

_Jesus,_ Alan thought, _I'm even starting to sound like Kiryuu._

Both were silent for a moment, while Carla turned things over in her head. It was then she noticed Alan turning around, beginning to head back into her room. Presumably he was going to climb back out of her window and climb back down the drainpipe.

"Tyler," she said, "you can use the door, you know." With that, she walked over to the apartment door, unlocked it and opened it. She stood aside to allow Alan to step outside. They both gave courteous, rather forced nods as they passed, and Alan walked back down the corridor.

As Carla shut the door behind him, she looked back down at the file. Alan had given her a veritable gold-mine of information, but now she was beginning to have doubts. If she was asked about who her source was, she wouldn't know what to say. She could say she was doing some extra digging on the Katagiri case, but she wasn't sure how long her stories would last under scrutiny. Still, the evidence in the file seemed pretty irrefutable, certainly enough to warrant further investigation, and now that it had presented itself again she wanted to tie up this loose end in her life once and for all. It was not so much the glory or the regaining of respect that she craved; it was the desire to see that justice was done to the ones who had brought so much calamity to so many lives.

She crossed over to the telephone and dialled American Airlines, booking a flight to New York. She reasoned that, while she was bringing justice to corrupt politicians, she would make some attempt to get over her fear of flying while she was at it.


	12. The Ties That Bind

**Epilogue: The Ties That Bind**

It was not long afterwards that the Shinodas departed back for Japan. They planned to meet up with Yuki and Miyasaka, doubtless to discuss their adventures. Shinoda even had the idea of starting a relationship with Yuki, and retiring from studying Godzilla; it looked like he would no longer be needed.

A few days afterwards, Alan was following Kiryuu to Ogasawara Island, to see Godzilla for the last time. He talked about much with Chester MacAnderson, the Scottish pilot of the helicopter he was borrowing. Chester had paid a brief visit to England before King Ghidorah's attack. Reconstruction was almost finished in London, Manchester, and the many other places the monster had destroyed. Alan had thought about paying a visit to his parents' graves within the next few days. They had died in King Ghidorah's first attack, and were buried in unmarked graves in St. Mary's Churchyard, in what was left of Whitby, Alan's home town.

At last, they arrived at their destination. Alan had seen parts of Ogasawara Island in his dreams, when he looked through Godzilla's eyes. Now, for the first time, he was seeing it with his own. The island was, for all intents and purposes, dead. There was scant vegetation, even the odd tree, but the island as a whole was almost devoid of life.

Presently, Godzilla poked his head out from behind a rocky cliff, spotting his father stood before him. Chester kept the helicopter at a safe distance, so as not to alarm Godzilla or intrude on this sensitive moment. For once, Alan did not mind; this was a tender moment, best observed from afar. He strapped himself into a harness and opened the side door, sitting down with his feet on the landing support. The cold air whipping around the helicopter stung his face, but he did not care. In fact, it felt refreshing to him.

Godzilla seemed wary of Kiryuu at first, but in the end they embraced, Kiryuu rubbing his cheek against Godzilla's. Something seemed to well up within Alan, like some kind of primal instinct that the cells within him had awakened. He did not just want to observe this encounter, he wanted to be involved. He wanted to be with them. He felt a tear running down his cheek as he listened to the conversation between father and son; he was aware of the disturbing fact that he could now understand them, and it pained him slightly to know he'd never have a chance to hear this again.

Kiryuu looked pained for a moment, as he set himself down on the ground. Godzilla followed him, and watched his father gaze up at the stars above. It was a beautifully clear night, which was refreshing to Alan after looking up at such a despairing sky full of leaden clouds little more than a week ago. After a few moments, Godzilla stood up and walked a few paces away. All this time, all Godzilla had wanted was to be with his father again. Now, he perhaps never would be. Kiryuu presently hauled himself to his feet, tears rolling down his cheek. They faced each other for a moment, before Kiryuu turned away.

From this angle, Alan could see Kiryuu open his chest cavity up, where the Absolute Zero cannon was housed, and knew the time was near. Alan wanted to shout, to do something, but he knew the outcome of this would be inevitable. Alan only wished there had been some other way. He watched as Kiryuu turned back towards Godzilla, with the beam charged. Godzilla's eyes widened in shock, while Kiryuu had a look of great regret on his face.

"Sayonara..." Alan muttered quietly, fighting back tears himself, "Gojira."

As the wave of ice spread over Godzilla, freezing him in a solid block of intense cold, Alan suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head. The pain was so strong that he suddenly blacked out, and fell unconscious. Luckily the harness kept him tethered to the helicopter, so he sat on the edge, his legs dangling outside, looking like he was fast asleep. For the few seconds Alan was out, there was a loud buzzing noise in his ears. A voice could be made out, however;

_"Just like you and I were left in suspended animation for millions of years, so I seal you once more in that long sleep. Don't worry, my son, I will awaken you. I'm doing this for your own good. It's not the humans that I worry about anymore that may harm you. This world is about to change, and it's going to get bad. I don't want you there to see it. I don't want you to be harmed by it."_

It seemed like an eternity, but it was only a few seconds before Alan started hearing another voice.

"Alan? Alan?! Can you hear me, mate?!"

Alan's eyes snapped open, and he breathed in sharply. He looked around him, as if he had suddenly appeared here for the first time. He gazed around at the interior of the cabin, eyes wide, until he set eyes on Chester, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Hey, take it easy, mate," Chester said calmly. "You're jumpier than me Great Uncle Seamus all of a sudden."

It took a few seconds for Alan to remember where he was and who he was talking to. He turned to look back outside, where a team of helicopters had tethered the icy block that contained the sleeping Godzilla underneath them. At once they took off, Kiryuu following them by latching on to the cables underneath the Shirisagi.

"We'd better be headin' back now," Chester said. "I've only enough fuel to get us back home. Besides, it'd be bloody cold in Antarctica. I wouldn'ay fly there if ya paid me a fortune."

Alan turned back to Chester, climbing back into the helicopter and closed the door, taking a seat beside Chester again.

"Yeah..." he said, in a slightly faraway voice. "I've seen all I need to. Let's go."

With that, they departed back to Utah. Alan took one last look back at Ogasawara Island, knowing that from now on, he was facing a very uncertain future. There would be no need for G-Chasers now. Whatever was going to happen, he would just have to adapt.

***

Dr. Akima Masushita had worked in the CCI for little over seven years. She had graduated as one of the top in her field of micro-biology and genetics, so naturally she had been accepted to join the CCI during one of their recruitment drives. This was a big deal for her; she came from a fairly small family and wanted to make it big in her profession.

Only a couple of months after she had joined, she had been assigned to one of the biggest projects in the CCI's history; G-Synthesis, experiments with Godzilla's cells on humans. She had been told that it was to see if the amino acid known as Organiser G-1 could be used in medical treatments. That was what her supervisor, Dr. Shiro Miyasaka, had told her. That experiment had been a complete failure in many respects. Miyasaka himself had not had any involvement in how the project had developed for years, and he had even been arrested not so long ago, the reasons for which were unclear to her. He had recently been released, and he had promptly quit the CCI and hurled a number of curses at it.

Now she had recently learned that the CCI's founder and the Japanese Minister of Defence, Mitsuo Katagiri, had been found dead in the United States. There were rumours of an enquiry being launched into the CCI's activities by the United Nations, which could possibly even end with the closure of the CCI and the total shutdown of its operations. She knew that would be a huge shame if that happened; not only would it mean she would lose her job, it would mean she could no longer be around the two remaining subjects of G-Synthesis. She had grown rather attached to them. Despite the fact that they never moved from their sleep, there was something about them that made her enjoy being around them. Maybe it was because they allowed her to watch genetic mutation – perhaps even evolution? – happening before her eyes, or maybe it was the moments of solitude and peace they granted her. In any case, she would miss them.

Those thoughts ran through her mind again as she walked through the restricted section in the CCI's headquarters, to re-apply the dosage keeping the subjects in their coma-like state. She wondered if anything would actually happen this time, something unexpected that she could write a report about. She carefully opened the door, carrying a tray full of sedatives, and walked into the large room that contained the subjects.

She expected the room to look something like an operating theatre, large and fairly open, with a variety of medical instruments and vials of liquids on the counters. She had expected to see the three slabs in the middle of the room, each with an ICU next to them and drip-bags full of various sedatives. What she did not expect, however, was for the slabs to now have no occupants, and for the vent cover to be on the floor, leaving a gaping hole in the air duct that ran above the room.

She did not know how long the slabs had been empty. All she knew was that the seemingly impossible had happened. She dropped the tray, which fell with a crash on the floor, sending the contents of the little tubes and glasses on it everywhere. She ran out of the room and dashed back towards the entrance to the restricted area, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"They've escaped!" she shouted. "Call security immediately! They've escaped!"

**The End...?**


End file.
